


The Arrangement

by kbecks87



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Grounder Bellamy Blake, Grounder Culture, Grounder Octavia Blake, M/M, Now complete, Protective Bellamy, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Trigedasleng, grounder!bellamy, grounder!octavia, smut in later chapters, sort-of-enemies to friends to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-04-16 00:15:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 50,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14152491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kbecks87/pseuds/kbecks87
Summary: Her mother had gotten her into this, and until this moment, some part of her thought she’d get her out of it as well. But, her eyes won’t meet Clarke’s now, and that’s how she knows that this is actually happening.Arranged marriage AU. Altered season one time line. Bellark.





	1. New Beginnings.

**Author's Note:**

> Italicized text is flash backs.

The Arrangement. Chapter One: New Beginnings. 

Clarke’s eyes flit around her, skimming over Kane, then her mother, then Miller and Monty who stand behind them, and the rest of what’s left of the hundred who watch with wide eyes from further away. She’d made them promise her that they would not make a scene, so she expects their silent grimaces to continue. Her mother had gotten her into this, and until this moment, some part of her thought she’d get her out of it as well. But, her eyes won’t meet Clarke’s now, and that’s how she knows now that this is actually happening. 

_Raven had fallen from the sky in a small craft, calling it a ship would be generous, but she makes it. She runs to Finn, who went with her and Monty to find the thing that fell out of the sky, and kisses him soundly. Clarke makes a small pained noise form the back of her throat, but no one is close enough to her to hear. Raven brings a radio with her, from the Ark, and they’re able to use it to stop hundreds of people from being killed to free up air and time for the rest. She speaks to her mother after, short and quiet. Her mother is so happy to hear from her, but she can’t bring herself to share in that enthusiasm, not knowing what she does now. Later, Wells makes a face at her from across the fire, telling her to be nice. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head ‘no’._

His fingers flex a little against hers and on reflex hers do as well. It hurts a little, stings, where their palms are cut open and pressed together. Her fingers try to curl in protectively, but their hands are bound by loosely looped rope that reminds her that she is supposed to stay, with her hand raised, outstretched and bound to his, blood dripping down both of their wrists, while a man speaks in a language she doesn’t understand in front of her. She tries to force her eyes up to meet his, but loses her courage mid-way and ends up staring at the freckles on his cheeks. 

_The Ark comes down not long after Raven, on Unity Day, the symbolism is not lost on her. There are some issues with the exodus ship and in the end, they have to bring the whole Ark to the ground. It splits apart on entry and the stations end up far away from one another – she’s not sure they’ll ever find everyone, or even all the chunks of the space ship she called home for most of her life. Her alliance with the Grounders might help them find all the people and pieces they are missing, Clarke thinks, will defiantly keep them alive if the Grounders are the ones to stumble across them._

In contrast to the Sky People who stand behind Clarke, the Grounders behind her almost-husband seem board and uninterested. She’s sure they’ve seen the marriage ceremony before, and maybe knowing that this marriage is not for love makes it of little concern to them. Clarke wonders, almost idly, if she would have fallen in love on Earth, had she been given the chance. She knows it doesn’t matter now and she’s not sure how that should make her feel – is kind of afraid to feel anything at all at the moment. She knows she has to do this, and she mostly feels solid in that resolve, but a growing fear bubbles just below the surface of that, at being married off and sent to live with people she doesn’t know. 

_Their first encounters with the Grounders were terrible, filled with blood and spears and knives, and more screaming than Clarke thinks she will ever be able to erase from her mind. But Finn had been able to talk to them, arrange a meeting. She shook hands with Anya on a bridge and while they’re not friends, and tension is still (always) high between the Sky People and the Grounders, there is relative peace. Days later, a group from each the Hundred and the Grounders, willing to learn from each other, meet in a clearing near where the Trikru clan lives. Clarke watches from a relative distance, and thinks that the two groups could come together, given time and the willingness to do so. She sees it in the encouraging nods that Lincoln gives Monty while teaching him how to preserve fruits and vegetables, in the way Octavia shows Miller how to sharpen a sword on rocks while asking him endless questions about living in the stars, in the way that Harper shows a Grounder girl how to sew repairs into her clothes. Guards from both people surround the group, but even they seem relaxed; she sees a few of them chatting as their paths cross. Anya comes and finds her, they spend some time exchanging information about each other and their people. It’s when Clarke learns of the twelve allied clans, their commander, and their enemies._

_When the Ark comes down, it takes less than a fortnight for the Council to take away any power or control the Hundred that came down on the drop ship thought they had. Clarke begged with her mother, told her how much they needed the Grounders, how far their relationship had come, and how much they had already helped each other…how much potential they had to keep helping each other. Kane is the only one to even hear her out, and before she turns to leave she steps up to be face to face with her mother, “I should have never expected anything better” she lets it hang in the air a little while, “from you”. She turns on her heel and runs out. The only clan she can find without help is Trikru, so that’s where she goes. Lincoln is guarding the gate that evening, so he makes pleasant conversation with her while someone goes to fetch Anya for her, she’s not allowed in the village. She warns Anya that the alliance might not hold, apologizes for not being able to keep it together. Anya lunges for her, Clarke knew there was a chance that she’d be kept as a prisoner of war when she came, but Lincoln grabs Anya’s arm and nods at Clarke before looking out into the woods. Clarke smiles gratefully and runs back to Arkadia._

The man in front of her stops talking and she glances around, not knowing what to do. So far, she’d just followed the lead of the man across from her. She looks up at him and he pauses for a moment before leaning down and kissing her cheek quickly. Some of his people in the crowd jeer good-naturally but he pays them no mind, lowering their joined hands, to stick out towards the man in front of them. He speaks again, more words she can’t make sense of, before removing the rope that holds their hands together and handing something to the man she’s just been freed from. It’s a small piece of cloth, to clean up the blood on his hand and wrist, she realizes this when he tears it in half and offers her a piece. She musters up a half smile to give him in return, but she shouldn’t have bothered – he’s not looking at her anyway. She has to remind herself; this was no more his idea than it was hers. They’ve both been forced into this. 

_The Sky People attack Trikru about a week later. At first it resembles a fair fight. Clarke even thinks that the guns give them an advantage. But the Grounders know this land and use all of that knowledge to their advantage. None of the original hundred fight – Clarke doesn’t exactly forbid it, she doesn’t have any actual authority anymore, but they ask her opinion, and she gives it, they just happen to follow. Most of them had been looking for an out anyway – they’d made an uneasy truce with the Grounders, a begrudging respect, and something that had the potential to become friendships had formed. No one wanted to fight the people they were almost friends with, especially when they had done nothing to provoke the violence and could have killed them easily before the Ark fell. The rest of the twelve clans in the alliance unify behind Trikru pretty quickly and when some badly prepared meat made its way through Arkadia one day and the Grounders gift wrap a non-lethal plague for them a week later, the Council finally learns what Clarke had been trying to tell them all along; they could align with the Grounders and get the help to survive they so desperately need._

_Kane and Abby go to meet Anya and the Commander, Lexa, who’d come in when the fighting started, on the same bridge Clarkes first shook Anya’s hand. The irony is not lost on her. Anya and Lexa are not particularly forgiving leaders, and won’t fall into the alliance quite so easily this time. The demands; technology, allegiance to the allied Clans, and the right to dictate territories are all things they have no choice but to agree to. The last demand is Lexa’s; a guarantee that this alliance won’t be broken as easily as the last. “A marriage would do fine” she says so casually that the Kane and Abby look between each other, sure that they misunderstood. “We would accept Clarke” Anya adds and Kane feels Abby lean her weight against him a bit, though she stays silent. They try to offer the Grounders other things, but in the end, they tire of the conversation, “The alliance is in your hands” Lexa says, her voice indifferent and walks away, her guards following her._

Clarke watches Bellamy carefully, she’d only met him two hours ago, though she had seen him standing guard at various times before that. He’d never spoken to her, or any of the other Sky People. He is so new to her that she worries that she will forget his name, and that should be funny; the threat of forgetting your husband’s name should be funny, but Clarke can’t bring herself to recognize the humor. 

Octavia, a Trikru girl who had always been pretty nice to her, and curious about the Sky People walks towards them and at first Clarke is gratefully for the semi-friendly face, but before she gets to Clarke she turns and hugs Bellamy tightly. They exchange words that Clarke doesn’t understand while Clarke shifts her eyes uncomfortably. She wonders idly if the two are in a relationship, wonders what her reaction to that should be; do you get to be upset if the entire thing is fake, would this make her the unwitting other woman again? They pull back and Octavia turns towards her, whatever warmth that had been present between them before is gone when she says, “I just don’t understand why it had to be my brother” to Clarke. 

Clarke blinks a few times and looks at Octavia in shock; she had no idea that Octavia had a brother, or that Bellamy had a sister. She has never seen actual siblings before. Clarke swallows hard when she realizes that it was an actual question that she is actually expected to answer, “Octavia, I didn’t have anything to do with any of this”. Octavia studies her, her mouth in a thin line, before turning back to Bellamy, saying something else that Clarke can’t understand and pulling her brother away. Clarke looks around, very alone for the first time since she was told about the marriage. She closes her eyes, but doesn’t have much time to think as the rest of the hundred surround her. 

They ask her why she’d do this, why she’d agree to it and she only sighs. She didn’t really agree to it – her mother told her that everyone she knew would die without it and basically handed her to the Grounders. She can’t tell the Hundred that though, knows that they would fight for her freedom. It warms her a little, that someone would – when even her mother would not. She placates them with the promise that everything will be fine. That she will see them all the time, which Anya assured her is true; with winter coming part of the alliance is the promise that the Grounders will help ready Arkadia for winter, a season that it is woefully unprepared for, and Anya had promised her that she could be a part of that. 

Jasper brings her a mug of moonshine and she rolls her eyes, but takes a sip. When she tries to lower the mug, he raises his hand and tilts it back again, forcing her to drink more. She’s laughing and sputtering a little when he finally lets her lower it. For a moment, she thinks she sees Bellamy watching her out of the corner of her eye, but when she looks over at him, he is in conversation with Octavia and Lincoln. 

Nyko passes by and says a quiet, awkward ‘congratulations’ to her. He means well, so she smiles and nods a little, even though she doesn’t feel like congratulations are in order. She likes Nyko fine, he was the only one who seemed to want to help Wells when he was dying, even though his people forbid it…even though their people were at war. She doesn’t know what she’ll be expected, or allowed, to do in the Trikru village once she lives there, but she would like to help Nyko as a Healer. She thinks that if it’s up to him, he’ll let her.

Anya raises a glass and makes a short speech about ‘this momentous occasion’ and the ‘newly formed alliance, forged after battle, and sealed in family’. She toasts to Clarke and Bellamy and Clarke wonders idly if it’s odd that they are not together for this part. Monty bumps her shoulder lightly when she starts to feel self-conscious under the stares of the people around her. Anya wraps it up by announcing that they must take their leave, and that they will reconvene soon so that each side can start fulfilling their sides of the agreement. 

Clarke glances around a little, tears springing to her eyes, unexpected and sharp, the idea that she will be walking away with the Grounders and not the Sky People settling in. Jasper hugs her first, and then Monty who whispers ‘see you soon’ in her ear and squeezes her tight. Raven hugs her, light and unsure, things between them still painfully unsettled. It’s a bit of a blur after that, her mother tries to talk to her at one point, but Clarke shakes her off. Finn hugs her, quick and light, Clarke backing away before his arms are even really around her. When she’s said her goodbyes, she looks around the clearing, people are taking what they brought, leaving the area looking untouched as they walk back to their camps. She sighs, turns to leave and sees that Bellamy is standing a few feet from her, having hung back from his group to walk with her. She starts to go to him and he starts to walk, so he’s about a foot in front of her and she’s following. He doesn’t speak her to her the whole walk back to the village, just turns his head occasionally to make sure she is still there.


	2. Orientation

The Arrangement. Chapter Two: Orientation 

It’s the first time she’s ever been allowed to walk past the gate and into the Trikru village, and she does so with wide, roaming eyes. A group of kids, all age ten or younger, are kicking a ball around, but stop to stare at her when they pass, she gives them a little wave and one of the youngest girls’ giggles in response. Bellamy tells her to follow him and she does, almost tripping over her feet as she looks around, but she has to keep moving to keep up. He walks into a log cabin, and he doesn’t hold the door out for her, but he doesn’t slam it behind himself either, so she follows him inside. 

Once she clears the doorway, she realizes that it’s his home. It’s not large, but its plenty big enough. She moves in a slow circle to take in the table in the corner next to some cabinets, the small bathroom with a bathtub taking up half the space and shelving opposite that, the fireplace with a tall stack of wood next to it, the closet half open with a pair of pants slung over one door, the pile of furs and blankets on a platform, with an actual mattress, along the closest wall. When her eyes settle back on him, the tips of his ears are a little pink and his hand is working though the hair at the nape of his neck, and she wonders if he’s feeling self-conscious about his home – wonders if it would make it better or worse if she told him what she was thinking; that its magnificent and amazing, and if he made even half of this himself she was immeasurably impressed, that she wished so badly that her people knew how to live like this. She’s still deliberating when he clears his throat a little, “I didn’t know you’d be…that I’d be” he shrugs a little, “Tomorrow morning I will set up another bed, and we will hang your things in the closet” he raises her duffle bag, it only has a few things, a couple changes of clothes and her medical journal that she’s brought from the Ark, and sets it down by the closet, “and I’ll show you around and answer any questions you have” she nods a little, what can she do but agree, “You should take the bed in the meantime” he gestures behind her. 

She shakes her head a little, “No, I don’t want to kick you out of your bed” she says, but he’s already sitting on the floor so she’s left standing awkwardly in the middle of the room until she sighs and sits on the bed. She realizes from what he said that when he left his camp this morning, he hadn’t known that he’s be marrying her that evening, and she wonders why he’s so calm about it. But they are hardly close enough for her to ask so she doesn’t. An awkward silence creeps into the room, and she’s almost tempted to fill it with empty words, but she doesn’t, just leans against the wall and watches him pull a book off of a side table and open it to a bookmarked page. She makes a little noise in the back of her throat, jealously mixed with surprise maybe, and he arches an eyebrow at her. She asks of he has another book and he reaches back onto the table, holding ‘The Odyssey’ out to her. 

She smiles when she reaches for it, and it’s only then that she realizes that the cut on her hand, from the ceremony earlier, has reopened. She pulls her hand back to herself, as not to get blood on the book and he stands wordlessly, going to the bathroom to get a bandage and a cloth to clean it with, he sets those things next to her and goes outside, comes back with a cup of water. He doesn’t offer to help, doesn’t touch her once, just sits back down on the floor and watches her clean her own hand. After she cleans and wraps it, and sets the cup and cloth to the side she looks down at the bed, and realizes that she got blood on the top layer of fur in big ugly splotches. She apologizes, and he says that it’s fine, that it’s not the first time they’ve been bleed on. She nods, but she spends the rest of the night touching the dry blood stains she left there. She only reads about a chapter of the book, before her thoughts start to swarm her and she lays back thinking of this day, her wedding day, and what her life would be now. Not long after she lays back, Bellamy blows out the lantern they’d been reading by and lays down on the wood floor beneath them. Neither of them speak. 

\---------------------------- 

The next morning, she wakes to the sound of Bellamy moving things about in the closet. He’s cleaned it up and moved all of his things to one side of the double chest of drawers in the middle. He realizes that she’s awake, turning and making eye contact with her, so she sits up and watches as he finishes. When he does, she stands and picks up her bag to cross the room. She hangs her shirts and folds her pants, putting them and her underwear in one of the drawers on her side, before putting her journal and an old photograph of her and Wells and her father in the drawer below that, finally folding up her empty bag and putting that in the bottom drawer. When she turns around, she expects to find him watching her, but he’s not. Instead, he’s pulling the pile of furs and blankets apart, so instead of one big pile, there are two smaller ones; one still against the wall on the actual bed and one a few feet away on the floor. She starts to cross to the pile of furs on the floor, but Bellamy tosses the book she’d been reading on the mattress and puts his on top of the pile on the floor. She wants to argue it, insist that he takes the bed, but doesn’t know how. She knows they should share the bed, but she’s not sure she’s ready for what she thinks that would mean. She smiles a little despite herself. Between the beds, he puts a lantern and a few other things they may need in the night. 

“Do you want to get breakfast, then I can show you around and answer your question.” It’s phrased like a question, but his tone does not imply one, so she nods a little and follows him out. In the light of day, she notices that a long porch swing sits in front of his – their? – house, and to the side is a large rain-collecting barrel. A clothes line stretches from the back of the house to a tree about ten feet away and a washboard and bucket lean against that tree. 

She follows him to a large common area, it’s basically a roof, held up by huge posts every fifteen feet or so and no walls, he points out tarps bundled up on the roof that they can lower if the weather gets too nasty, but mentions that they haven’t felt the need in years. She remembers the storm that hit not too long ago, while she was on the radio with her mother and wonders if that was an average storm, hopes not. He tells he that this is where the eat and where they celebrate and where they meet to discuss things, it is the center of the village. It seems like everyone is under the roof, milling about but mostly sitting at long benches, pulled up to the tables that fill the space, and eating. Lexa sees them come in and calls everyone to attention, tells those who haven’t met her, her name and gives the cliff notes version of an explanation of her presence, says that she is Bellamy’s. She wants to shout that she belongs to no one, but does not believe it would go over well in this moment. She closes by saying that she expects that Clarke will be treated well by everyone, and goes back to her meal. Clarke waits for everyone else to go back to eating as well, but they all just stare at her. She starts to shift her weight back and forth, nervous energy growing from the pit of her stomach, until Bellamy says a gruff “Let’s get something to eat” and expects her to follow. She does. 

They go through the food line and the man filling their plates makes easy conversation with Bellamy in a language she still doesn’t understand. She wonders if anyone would teach her, or if they prefer her confused and struggling to keep up. The man behind the table of food, who had been so kind to Bellamy just moments ago, shoves a plate at her with a few berries and a scoop of oatmeal, a little of it creates a wet spot on her shirt having sloshed around a bit with the force of being thrust at her. She smiles anyway, mumbles a thank you, figures she should be glad she’s being fed at all. She glances over to Bellamy, to see what his reaction is, but he is facing away from her, making conversation that she can’t understand with someone new. She stands awkwardly behind him and waits. He seems very well liked here, and she wonders how that will factor into her life. He seems to remember her then, turns to look at her, then walking towards an empty section of bench and sitting down. She sits next to him and he notices her plate for the first time; everyone else has large chunks of meet and bread next to their oatmeal, as well as a generous serving of fruit, she has almost none of that. He’s starting to stand, reaching for her plate as he does, but she just shakes her head a little, tells him that it’s more than she would have had that morning if she were in Arkadia, which is true, and that she doesn’t want to make a fuss. He sits back down, eyeing her for a moment before nodding and going to his own food. It warms her in a way that she wasn’t expecting that he’d been willing to go back and demand more for her. 

Octavia and Lincoln sit down across from them and with no preamble at all Octavia asks how the happy couple is. Clarke rolls her eyes without looking up and Bellamy glares at his sister until she giggles and pops a strawberry in her mouth. Lincoln shakes his head and smiles at Clarke, rolling his eye exaggeratedly. Clarke smiles in return. Even though Clarke largely isn’t a part of the conversation the three of them have, they keep it in English, which can only be for her benefit, and she appreciates that more than she could explain. Bellamy is in the middle of telling Lincoln about some plan that the Heda has for passing through Azgeda territory when he cuts his slice of meet apart and sets a piece on her now empty plate, he does the same with his bread when Lincoln is answering. She smiles into her new food, but doesn’t miss the careful, distrustful way Octavia is watching her when she looks up, she struggles not to squirm under the gaze of a woman much younger than herself. 

After they’ve eaten, Bellamy stands and exchanges a few foreign words with Octavia who just laughs in return, and gestures for Clarke to follow him. He leads her along the fence of camp, showing her where things are, and how far their territory extends in each direction. 

Nyko is outside the clinic when they pass and comes over to talk to them. He is the first person to ask Clarke how she is since she arrived at the Trikru village and she finds herself thinking over her answer for a moment before saying that she is overwhelmed. “To be expected” Nyko answers and Clarke nods. Nyko asks if she’d like a tour of the clinic itself and she nods enthusiastically, listens to the low chuckle that elicits from Bellamy. Nyko offers to show Clarke back to Bellamy’s cabin when they are done, to give him some free time. Bellamy nods before he turns to her, he catches her eye and holds it for a moment, it feels like he’s looking for something but she’s not sure what. When he nods, and turns and walks away, she wants to ask if he found it. 

Nyko spends about an hour walking her around the small cabin, with an open tent covering the porch, and showing her the supply cabinet, explaining the medicinal qualities of plants she’d not come across before. The Commander passes by, and Nyko excuses himself to talk to her while she continues to look around. When he comes back, he tells her that he’d been asking if she could work with him in the Clinic, and that the Heda had approved of the idea. A smile breaks out across her face “Thank you!” she nods, calming herself, “I wasn’t sure if I’d be let to…” she trails off, shaking her head a bit, “Thank you” she repeats and he laughs good naturedly when he nods. He warns her that people might not accept her help easily, but to give it time. As he leads her back to Bellamy’s home, he tells her just to come by when she wants to, and the freedom of that schedule amazes her. 

When they get back to Bellamy’s cabin, he is sitting outside on the porch with Octavia. They are sharpening knives and talking quietly in Trigedasleng, she wants to give them their privacy, but Nyko has already left her and she’s not sure where she would go. So, she walks up and steps onto the platform the house sits on and says a quiet “hi” to the Blake siblings. Bellamy raises his hand in acknowledgement, but Octavia just watches her critically. She can’t think of anything else to do, so she walks past them and into the house. She walks around carefully, for a moment she can just hear the sound of their voices outside, though she can’t tell what they’re saying. They must realize that they can be heard, because she hears the sounds of their conversation fade, as they must stand and walk away. 

She walks over to a shelf and picks up a polished stone, it’s pretty – purple and green mixing together, “Octavia gave me that when she was, about six, I think” his voice startles her, and she flinches a little at the sound of it, ready to apologize and put the gift back on the self. But, he doesn’t look angry, only like he is telling her the story, so she turns the stone over in her hand and looks at him, “It was a holiday, my birthday maybe?” he shrugs, trying to remember, “And she was angry that she didn’t have anything to trade at the post” he gestures vaguely away from the village, and she remembers him saying that people trade informally within the gates but that there is a true Trading Post about a day’s walk away, “but she found that and gave it to me”. The corners of his mouth just barley tug upwards as she sets it down and she thinks it’s the first time she’s really seen him smile when it’s just been them together. 

She sits down at the table, and he follows suite, the chair scraping against the wood floor when he pulls it out. It’s quiet for a long moment, before Clarke remembers and, “Nyko said I could help him out at the Clinic some, if I wanted” she can’t help but smile when she says it. 

“That’s great” Bellamy answers, his voice quiet, and she can’t be sure, but he sounds like he means it. She wants to ask him for more stories about his life, his childhood. She doesn’t understand how she’s meant to be married to someone who she doesn’t know and who doesn’t seem that interested in changing that. So, she picks at the table a little until he asks her if she has any questions about life here. 


	3. Different Rules

The Arrangement. Chapter Three: Different Rules 

There are a million things that Clarke wants to ask him in that moment, but it’s like she can’t focus on any of them long enough to actually ask. She sighs softly at herself, frustrated, before clearing her throat lightly, “Are we…” she starts, then hesitates before shaking her head at herself and gesturing between them a little as he watches her, “Are we meant to be actually married?” His eyes narrow at her, in questioning, and she knows he doesn’t understand her question. She can’t blame him, when she hardly understands it herself. “I mean…I just…” she stumbles over her words for a moment, feeling unsure and self-conscious, then annoyed at that unsureness in turn. She pauses with a deep breath, “I don’t really know that rules or customs of your people’s marriages, or to what extent we will follow those, since ours is…” she struggles for the word for a moment… “unconventional”. 

It’s quite for a long moment, while he considers her words, “Arranged marriages are not common among our people. They only happen when the commander can find no other way to trust an alliance will hold. There hasn’t been one since Yujleda Clan joined the Allied Clans when I was young, and none before that for generations”. He’s quite for a few moments, and she finds herself surprised that she is a part of something so rare. She also finds herself feeling like she is not getting the full story from Bellamy, but she stays quiet, letting him decide what to tell her. “There is not a different set of rules, or expectations for arranged marriages, but most…” he trails off a little, decided on a different approach, “Historically they have been between people who have been at war for years, who have a deep seeded hatred for one another, and are only coming together because one side has been forced to yield.” He looks up from the table, where his gaze had been settled, and catches her eye, “It is why Anya chose you for this. She believed that you would want to do this for your people, but also be willing to make the sacrifice of the move and be adaptable to new customs. That you would be able to regain the trust of the people here” 

His eyes are intense while he watches her and she grows uncomfortable under their gaze until she blinks her eyes back down to the table between them. “Why were you chosen?” she asks quietly. She almost feels like the question is an intrusion, but isn’t sure why. 

He pulls in a long breath and nods a little, like he knew the question was coming, “I was not already promised to another” he says, “and because of my position within the warriors ranks, The Commander believed that you would be safe living with me” he dips his head a little, his voice coming across softer when he adds, “You will be safe” quietly then clears his throat, leaning all the way back in his chair, “That’s most of it” he says, his voice hardening and closing off. “I intend to honor this marriage, to do otherwise to dishonor my family as well as our traditions, and betray The Commander’s trust in me” he says it as though it was a foregone conclusion and she just nods. 

“I do too” she whispers, though she isn’t sure what family she really has left, or what she could so to dishonor them. 

_She’s been so sure that Wells had been the one to turn in her father that she’d never really stopped to consider all the ways that didn’t make sense. Why would she – when he’d readily accepted the blame and her hatred that came with it. But, on the ground, she’d been forced to consider everything a little more carefully and when she considered Wells (Miller insisting that he’d be a helpful addition to the Guard they were trying to assemble) she’d realized that her conclusion didn’t make enough sense, and when she asked him, point blank, he’d been unable to out-and-out lie to her face about it and had confirmed her suspicion with a wordless nod. In that moment, all of her familial allegiances switched from her mother to the boy who grew up across the hall and let her hate him for years, just to spare her the pain of losing both parents at once._

After a few awkward moments pass, Clarke’s attention is pulled by noise outside and she looks at Bellamy quizzically, “Dinner” he says and she nods. He stands and gestures for her to follow him, she does and they talk while they walk. She asks if there are any specific rules or laws in the village and he lists off rules that are not all that different than the Ark’s were. The punishments range a lot for the crimes, and when Clarke tells him that the punishments for all crimes on the Ark was death, no matter how small, she enjoys the way that his face twists up in disgust for a moment, likes that he doesn’t approve of the cruelty of the laws. They’re in the same line they stood in for breakfast when she’s telling him that he and Octavia are the first siblings she’s ever known, he’s looking at her like she’s crazy and he’s on the brink of asking her how that’s possible when Octavia crashes into Bellamy, knocking him off balance a little. 

Octavia glances at Clarke and takes a step back from Bellamy, Clarke’s smile faltering while the moods of their easy conversation dissipates around the distraction of Octavia. “What’s up, O?” Bellamy asks, throwing an easy arm around her shoulder, brushing some dirt off her face with his other hand and looking at her quizzically. 

“Lincoln and I went scouting” she says nodding to Lincoln who waits a few paces behind her. Bellamy rolls his eyes and Clarke takes a half step back to allow Lincoln room in front of her in line. Lincoln smiles at her in thanks and puts a hand on her shoulder when he moves to stand by her. Clarke goes through the line and gets her plate after Lincoln, she notices that she’s given about the same as everyone else and follows the eye of the man shoving her plate back to her where it’s linked to Bellamy’s who nods, almost imperceptibly at the man. She smiles and mumbles a ‘Thank You’ as she takes her plate. 

They leave the meeting place with their food this time and head towards one of the fires burning low and warm in the camp. Clarke supposes that she’s probably meant to follow them, so she does. The early mornings and late evenings are starting to take on a chill and the fires are becoming a popular place to eat. They sit and Octavia starts talking to Bellamy and Lincoln, she knows the conversation isn’t meant for her, because it’s in Trigedasleng. She zones out of the conversation a little, and looks around. She finds a lot of the Trikru staring at her, some pointing her out to the people they are with. She shrinks into herself a little, picking at the food on her plate absently. She catches Bellamy’s eye over Octavia’s head for a half second, and for a moment wonders what Octavia is saying. Octavia mostly talks, while the guys listen to her, when she does what feedback, it seems to be from Lincoln, who answers her in English every time he speaks. Clarke smiles at him in thanks, and can’t tell whether it angers Octavia or not. 

When her and Bellamy walk back to the cabin, she tries to bring back the easy conversation that they had before. She asks questions and gets one word answers, and tells him about weird laws on the Ark and gets only nods. She wonders if Octavia said something to make him stop, or if he’d realized that a fake wife wasn’t worth the effort. She falls silent not to long later, and sits quietly on her bed when they get back to the cabin, trying to read but failing miserably, instead reading the same page over and over, the words never really sinking in, until she gives up with a soft sigh, laying down and facing towards the wall. 

\------------------------------------------------ 

It’s not that Bellamy doesn’t understand what she’s trying to do…it’s not even that he hadn’t enjoyed the conversation earlier. But, no matter what he does, he makes someone angry, hurts someone; if he is nice to Clarke the others in his Clan became distrustful and wary of him, but if he isn’t nice to her then no one is, and he does genuinely enjoy her company, as far as assigned wives were concerned. He knows that she has no one in this camp and he hates the monosyllabic answers that leave him, even as he hears them in the air. 

The other thing, really, was that he has never been good at this. He knows that he’s not good at letting people in. He thinks of his ugly break with Echo and knows that when he’s being brutally honest with himself he knows that’s a lot of what made returning to Azgeda a more appealing proposition than staying with him for her. He was trying with Clarke, he really was, if he was going to spend the rest of his life with them orbing each other, then opening up to her a little isn’t a bad idea. And while he knows this, logically, he really can’t get himself to do it. He wonders if this will be their relationship always, awkward stilted conversations and sleeping facing opposite walls, or if they will figure each other out…figure out how to exist together. 


	4. New Relationships

The Arrangement. Chapter Four: New Relationships 

Clarke again wakes after Bellamy. He is looking over maps at the table and she blinks heavily a few times before she sits. He glances over at her when she does, but doesn’t say anything. She stretches as she stands and walks over to the table, looking at the maps. He doesn’t make any move to hide them from her, so she supposes that they are fine for her to see, probably because she can’t make sense of them, anyway. “There’s breakfast, if you’re hungry” he says, gesturing to a plate on the other side of the table. 

She looks out of the window to see the sun already up and wonders idly how long she slept, “Thank You”, she sits and starts to eat. “I think I am going to go to the Clinic today…” she hesitates a moment, “if that’s okay?” 

Bellamy looks up at her, “You don’t need my permission, Clarke” 

She sighs a little when she forces a smile, “I know” she says it more because it feels like the right thing to say than because it was true. When he nods in return she can tell that he knows that. She eats, and cleans her plate, putting back on the shelf it looks like it belongs on, before leaving Bellamy to the maps. 

She makes it to the Clinic easily, finding Nyko right inside. He smiles easily and waves her in, it is empty except for them. Nyko spends a great deal of time explaining the processes to her; how the Clinic operates, who among the Clan is an adequate Healer (she is both surprised and not to find that Lincoln is an accomplished Healer), and what kinds of things they keep all the time as opposed to what they make or gather only when a situation calls for it. Only one person comes in before dinner, a woman looking for more of a concoction that Nyko made for her husband last week, he’s almost past the sickness, she explains, just has the cough left. Nyko translates the woman’s words to Clarke while he mixes and Clarke can tell the woman doesn’t like it. Nyko hands over the liquid and explains to Clarke what it was and how he made it. 

They start to hear the commotion that comes with dinner being served and Clarke smiles easily at Nyko, “You should go…eat, take a break, I can watch over things for a bit” she says. Nyko asks if she’s sure and when she nods he’s pats her shoulder affectionately, promises to be gone only long enough to grab a plate and goes out. Clarke wonders how often he gets to share meal time with the rest of his Clan and makes a note to try to come by during those times more often. While there are a few Healers in the camp, it seems none are as good as Nyko and no others do it exclusively. Nyko’s home is even connected to the Clinic, so he doesn’t have to leave home to be available. 

Clarke is returning bottles to a shelf when all the sudden a man she thinks she recognizes, but can’t quite place bursts through the doors, holding a small child in his arms. “Kom ste Nyko” the man yells and Clarke isn’t sure what’s happening, or what he needs, but she can tell that the child in his arms is having an allergic reaction and she goes to touch her fingers to his neck, to feel the speed of his pulse and the man pushed her so hard she falls backwards, landing on her backside with a thump. She jumps up and holds her hands in front of herself. 

“I think he’s in anaphylaxis” Clarke says slowly, shaking a little and scanning the shelfs next to her until she finds what she’d looking for. She combines the contents of two bottles and hands it to the man, “he needs that” she says as he takes it. 

“Chit ste disha wamplei” he yells, throwing the cup at her so the liquid splashes over her face and the cup smacks her collar bone before dropping to the ground. She doesn’t know what to do, and she can’t make herself move, so she stands in front of him in shock. Someone must have gotten Nyko, because he runs in, taking the little boy from the man with ease and laying him on the table in the middle of the room. He puts his hands on Clarke’s shoulders when he turns to the cabinet of medicines, apologizes to her in a whisper, and mixes the same medicines she had just a few moments ago. This time the man thanks Nyko as he gives the concoction to the boy gratefully. Lincoln and Octavia come in just as the boy coughs a little and sits. Clarke can feel Octavia’s eyes on her, on the blue-green liquid making its way down her face and chest, but she can’t bring herself to care. Nyko talks to the boy, who is now sitting and laughing and explain what happened to him using more words that Clarke doesn’t understand. When the man and his child go to leave, the boy hops down from the table and waves at Clarke easily before he goes, Clarke raises her hand in a wave in return. 

Clarke remembers all at once why she recognized the man – before the Ark came down he’d sat at a table with her, Miller, and Anya and explained the inherent dangers of the Ground to them. He started with the Acid Fog - said they hadn’t seen it often, and it usually looked like puffs of harmless orange-tinged air, but that it could eat a man alive, he’d told them of their warning system and how to stay safe if it came, assured them it didn’t come so far out of the woods. They’d talked about Reapers – men turned into monsters with no cure. And the Mountain Men – terrifying people that came out of the very Mountain The 100 were meant to land on, and took people, never to be seen again. Clarke and Miller shared a look, thinking that it sounded like scary stories, but grateful for whatever information they could get. The four of them had eaten together that day, telling jokes and sharing stories. She can understand why he doesn’t trust her now – whatever trust he had in her or the Skikru was erased when the Ark came down and attacked, but the difference in his attitude towards her is still jarring. 

Nyko says her name and turns toward her, “No” she cuts him off, shaking her head, “you warned me that they probably wouldn’t trust me” she sniffles a little, forcing herself to stand tall, “I just wasn’t expecting…” she looks up at Nyko who is looking at her sadly, “I should have…” she trails off again, closing her eyes. 

“They’ll come around” Lincoln’s voice sounds from the entrance of the building and she looks over to give him a small, disbelieving smile. 

She nods a little, “I think I’m just going to go -” she stops short of saying home, because she’s not sure that’s what she should call it, but calling it Bellamy’s seems odd as well, “to sleep” she ends up saying. 

She’s pushing the door open and almost all the way outside when Octavia’s voice stops her, “Hod op…sorry, wait” she corrects herself into English and Clarke stops, pulling in a deep breath and wondering if she should prepare for a fight as she turns to face Bellamy’s sister, “Bellamy’s group got delayed and won’t be back for a few hours…that’s why he’s not…” she gestures around a little before she continues, “come back to our home for a while – have dinner and clean up a bit” Octavia gestures at the liquid drying on her skin and Lincoln nods encouragingly. Clarke nods with a whispered ‘okay’ and follows them to a cabin not far from Bellamy’s. 

The cabin’s layout is like Bellamy’s, but other than that it is very different. It’s colorful and loud and full of personality and she’s sure she’d have recognized it as Octavia’s even if that hadn’t been who brought her here. Octavia gestures for her to sit at the table, so she does and Octavia pulls some bread and cheese from a cabinet, setting it in front of her. Both girls pick at it quietly while Lincoln fills the bathtub. “You don’t have to do that” Clarke says when she realizes what he’d doing. He just shrugs and tells her to enjoy her dinner. 

“You won’t win that” Octavia inform her, her voice warm, full of affection and pride even as she rolls her eyes, watching Lincoln. Clarke smiles, nods a little before holding her hands up in mock surrender. A long moment passes before Octavia speaks again and when she does, her words surprise Clarke, “I’m sorry…for not trying to make your transition here easier”. Clarke starts to speak, but Octavia continues, “I just…I didn’t want Bellamy to have to…” she trails off, her eyebrows knit together and she chooses her words carefully, “It doesn’t have anything to do with you, I know that you were against your people attacking us, I just didn’t want Bellamy to have to submit to an arranged marriage” she says ‘arranged marriage’ the way it sounds in Clarke’s mind – with a disbelieving scoff, like ‘how is this still a thing?’ should follow it, so when Clarke looks into Octavia’s eyes and says ‘I know’ it feels very real. “I know The Commander chose him for you, and not you. And he’ll be kind and fair to you, he will” she’s adamant when she says it so Clarke nods, “It’s just…it’s not what I pictured for him” she finishes quietly and Clarke reaches across the table to put her hand on Octavia’s arm, ‘I know’ she whispers again and Octavia gives her a small smile in return. 

They finish eating and Octavia gestures to the bathroom with a smile. She goes in, lets the door fall shut behind her and strips down, folding her clothes in a small pile and leaving them on the floor next to the bathtub. When she slips in, it’s warm and lovely and she sighs softly. Octavia pokes her head in a few minutes later and leaves a stack with a towel and a change of clothes next to her dirty ones and Clarke says it’s not necessary, but Octavia just rolls her eyes and leaves them there. When she gets out of the bath, she drains the water and cleans the tub before drying off and slipping into the change of clothes that Octavia left for her. It’s the first time she’s worn Grounder clothes before and she finds herself surprised by how comfortable they feel. When she stuffs her still damp feet into her boots, it’s an odd juxtaposition that makes her laugh a little. When she comes out of the bathroom, holding her dirty clothes to her chest, it has the same effect on Octavia and Lincoln. 

They both ask her if she wants to stay there for the night, but she shakes her head, pushing her damp hair behind her ear, one side at a time, before saying that she thinks she should go. “I’ll walk you home” Lincoln says, lighting a lantern that she knows he doesn’t need to see by and leading the way. Octavia smiles at her as they leave and Clarke thinks idly if she ends today with a better relationship with Octavia then the rest of what happened was worth it. When they get to her cabin, Lincoln gives her the lantern and she laughs lightly as she takes it, thanks him and promises to bring it back with Octavia’s borrowed clothes. He just shrugs, “Don’t worry too much about it” he says and she knows he doesn’t just mean the borrowed items. She drops her dirty clothes in the bucket by the end of the clothes line and goes inside. It’s the first time she’s ever been in there without Bellamy and it feels too large and too cold for just her. She doesn’t trust herself to start a fire, so she curls into the furs in the corner of her bed and lays down. She keeps the lantern lit and in the middle of the floor, felling like a silly child with a night light as she does, but not able to blow it out either. 

\--------------------------------------------- 

When Bellamy comes back to camp with the dozen or so kids several years younger than him that he took out hunting to teach them a little before winter hits, the mood is good. Two of the kids are taking a pack with some small game to the smoke house while another tries to tell Bellamy a joke but keeps stumbling over the set up. Bellamy catches sight of Octavia out of the corner of his eye and nods at her, to let her know that he sees her while he listens to the joke then tells the kids to head home, that they did good. 

He makes his way over to Octavia a little confused, they’re well past waiting up when one is only a few hours late, “Everything alright?” he asks, his eyes moving over her face to make sure she isn’t injured. 

“I’m okay” she almost laughs a little when she says it, her always protective older brother still looking out for her. “Something did happen though” she says and when Bellamy looks at her expectantly she pulls in a deep breath and tells him what happened to Clarke at the Clinic. Bellamy rubs at the hair on the back of his neck and Octavia shrugs a little, “She seemed to take it okay, though, all things considered” Bellamy raises his eyebrows in a ‘yeah right’ gesture and Octavia does laugh a little this time. 

Bellamy slings an arm across Octavia’s shoulders, “Thanks for taking care of her”. She gives a half shrug in return and Bellamy laughs a little this time. 

They talk while they walk together to her cabin and when they get there Octavia hesitates before she goes inside, “She’s alright…” Octavia starts, choosing her words carefully, “I just…I don’t think an arranged marriage is…I didn’t think…I don’t want…” she talks in fits and starts, not wanting to bring up things that are better left in the past, but wanting to explain to her brother at the same time. 

“I get it, O, it’s all okay,” he pauses, kisses her cheek, “It’s what had to be done” he adds, trying to sound more nonchalant than he feels about the situation. She nods a little before she goes inside and he watches her until the door slides shut behind her, even though she hasn’t needed him to look after her in a very long time. 

_Five- year-old Octavia sits in the middle of a group of children, her hair in braided pig tails that she has to keep throwing over her shoulder to keep out of her way. No one sits especially close to her, a little wary, but she doesn’t pay that much mind. Bellamy passes the group on his way out of the Camp, touches the back of her shoulder lightly to let her know he’s there, she smiles up at him and he slips her a piece of meat from the breakfast he knows she didn’t eat this morning. Indra calls her group of kids to attention and Octavia shoves the food in her mouth quickly mumbles “Thanks Bell” around the food and runs to join the line._

He walks the short distance to his cabin and notices the light from a lantern flickering inside of the window and wonders if she is still awake. He pushes the door open quietly and glances around the cabin, his eyes finding Clarke curled into herself on the bed in the corner. He crouches down by the bed to look at her and smiles sadly, glad that she has found her way to sleep, but concerned with how frightened she looks even in sleep. He notices Octavia’s clothes and shakes his head a little, pushes her hair away from her face and notices a small blue bruise forming on her collar bone where she had been hit. He swallows his anger, it won’t do either of them any good now, and moves her a little on the bed so she’ll be in a more comfortable position. She mumbles something that he can’t quite make out in her sleep as she readjusts in the bed. Bellamy stands and crosses the room to change clothes in the bathroom before coming out and sitting down in the pile of furs he’d gathered across from the actual bed. He blows out the lantern and lays back. 


	5. Alone

The Arrangement. Chapter Five: Alone

Bellamy is woken up by the sound of Clarke shuffling around the cabin. He can tell that she is trying to be quiet, so he just lies there for a moment, listening to her put her shoes on. The sun isn’t even up yet, so he wonders where she is going so early. He sits up when he hears the door swings shut behind her. He notices that the closet door is ajar and looks outside; she has changed out of the clothes that Octavia lent her and into a spare set of clothes she brought with her from Arkadia, her hair is pulled away from her face with an elastic band that normally sits on her wrist and she is washing the clothes that Octavia lent her as well as the clothes she must have been wearing at the Clinic and hanging them on the line outside. Bellamy watches the way she moves with careful, quiet determination and can’t help but be a little proud of her. 

When she comes back inside, he’s sitting at the table, drinking a tea, he offers her one when the door swings shut behind her. She shakes her head a little, but smiles, clearly a little nervous. “You’re up early” he says carefully, wanting her to tell him what she is comfortable with and not prod her for more information. 

She nods, “Yeah, I just…” she gestures out towards where she has clothes up on the line drying, “I needed to do some laundry” she fidgets a little, tugs her shirt up to cover the small mark on her collar bone and stands up a little straighter. “Nyko warned me that the people here would have trouble trusting me, but I still think I might have underestimated what that might mean”. She tells him about the little boy and the man throwing the medicine back at her, but when she tells the story, the most important part, the thing she focuses on, is how Octavia was nice to her after and Bellamy can’t help the small smile that forms on his face. 

She goes back to the Clinic after breakfast and Nyko seems surprised to see her. They work quietly and Lexa comes to see her about halfway through the day. Nyko disappears to give them the space to talk. Clarke thinks that Lexa is there to talk about what happened the day before, but she hardly seems aware of the interaction, instead just asking how things are going in general. She chooses her words carefully, tells her that Bellamy is more than fair to her. Lexa leaves with a curt nod and the promise that Clarke will be let to visit Arkadia soon. 

In the late afternoon Clarke goes and collects Octavia’s clothes from the clothes line and Lincoln’s lantern and walks the short distance to Lincoln and Octavia’s home. She knocks lightly on the door and it opens with Octavia’s back to her, she’s in mid conversation with Lincoln who is rolling his eyes from his seat at the table. Octavia finally swings her attention back to Clarke and her faces registers surprise before she schools it into a smile and takes a step back so that Clarke can come in. She stands awkwardly in the entry, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. 

Octavia takes the pile of folded up clothes and the lantern from her and sets them down on the table. Lincoln gives her a small wave from where he sits at the table and she returns it with a small smile. “Thanks” Octavia says, spinning back around to face her again. 

“Sure” Clarke nods, a little unsure of herself, “Thanks for lending them to me” she adds and Octavia nods a little. It’s not a total 180 in their relationship, and Clarke’s not sure they’ll ever be true friends, but it’s so much better than it was, and Clarke is grateful for it. 

\------------------------------------------

Bellamy finds Clarke just before dinner and tells her that he’s been asked to attend a meeting and isn’t sure how long he’ll be. She doesn’t think much of it until much later in the evening when the sky is dark and it’s cool out. She’s been sitting on the porch, staring up at the stars that she used to live among, thinking about it feel like that was a life time ago, but she finally stands and goes inside. She lays down on her bed, curling into the soft furs and lets herself drift to sleep. 

She wakes up the sound of her name. Bellamy is crouching over her, his hand on her shoulder. She blinks a few times as she sits, trying to get her bearings. He leans back on his heals so that he is out of her personal space and waits for her to focus on him. “I have to go” he almost-whispers and her eyebrows knit together in confusion, “The Heda needs to return to Polis, and I will be traveling with her” he pauses, “I didn’t think it would be for another week or so, but…” he trails off. 

“You’re leaving tonight?” she asks, voice thick. He just nods. She glances around, she’s not sure why the idea bothers her so much, maybe because she feels so alone here and she feels like she can count on him to at least treat her like a person. 

“If you need anything while I am gone, go to Octavia” he says and she nods, “Lincoln is coming to Polis with us, so she might like the company anyway” he says, his voice getting a bit of a teasing lilt to it and Clarke snorts out a little laugh. 

“How long?” she asks. 

“A week or so, probably” he says. It’s hard to be exact, “We’ll have to skirt the Ice Nation’s territory, so maybe a bit longer” he adds, remembering The Ice Queens refusal to acknowledge Lexa as The Heda. 

Her eyebrows knit together again, and there are a million things she wants to ask, but she knows that he has to go. She touches he knee, “Be careful” she whispers and he covers his hand with hers and nods a little before he stands. He pauses at the door, and she thinks he might say something, but he just looks at her with a soft smile before he leaves. 

\---------------------------------------------------

When Clarke wakes up the next morning and walks around the camp, she feels less settled and sure of herself than she did when Bellamy was there. She knew, that even if they didn’t like each other, didn’t enter into this marriage in the way that most do, that they respected each other and that they would have one another’s back. She knows that the people here respect Bellamy, maybe fear him a little, and that the respect he commands has been part of what ensures her safety on a daily basis. She shouldn’t feel lost or helpless without that, but she does a little, and she hates that about herself. 

\--------------------------------------- 

The first few days go okay, she helps Nyko in the Clinic. She never touches a patient and they won’t trust anything she has a hand in making, so it’s mostly just handing him things. But, he lies and says that it’s helpful and Clarke chooses to let herself believe him. She even has meals with Octavia a couple of times. Octavia start teaching her a little bit of Trigedasleng, because they so often lapse into uncomfortable silence and then start searching for conversation, and Clarke grabs greedily at the new information, trying to store it all away. 

One day a girl, about her age, approaches her tentatively while she is eating a late breakfast by herself at a small table as the very edge of the public gathering place. Clarke tenses at first, not many of her interactions have been pleasant, but when the girl gestures towards the empty seat across from her, Clarke nods all the same. Clarke recognizes this girl, Zoe, as the one who taught her and Monty how to skin a rabbit, she had laughed softly at Monty’s squeamishness and Clarke’s amazement at the softness of the animal’s fur. She had been nice to them that day, smiling easily and sharing all kinds of knowledge with them. They eat quietly, and exchange pleasant small talk, she even asks about Monty. Clarke feels like she might be able to have a life here for the first time. 

The forth night she has dinner with Octavia and then goes to help Nyko crush the red berries that were brought back earlier in the day. They help with fever, he tells her, so they try to stock pile it before it gets too cold and people start getting sick. When it’s all put away she pulls a fur coat that Bellamy had left for her around her shoulders and starts towards the cabin she calls home. She’s almost there, can make out the outline of the porch swing when someone grabs a fistful of her hair from behind and uses it to push her face into the wall of the grain silo. 

She tries to reach back and grab at him, to run, but he slams her face into the building again and for a moment she sees darkness with pin-pricks of light behind her eyes and she pulls in a gasping breath. He’s whispering, in Trigedasleng, angry and harsh in her ear. She doesn’t understand most of it, but catches ‘Skikru’ and a word she thinks means ‘invader’. She’s trying to piece it together and she thinks that he believes that she’s here to kill them or betray them or something to that effect. Every time she starts to speak or tries to turn to look at him, he slams her against the building again, but she doesn’t feel true fear until she feels the metal of a blade against her hip. Tears fill her eyes then and she starts struggling again, harder and more frantic, trying to tell the man that she means him no harm between gasps of breath and hiccupped cries. The blade cuts into her skin and she yells out. He’s not affected by her struggling though, not until they can hear footsteps coming towards them and a man shouting. He leaves her then, running into the darkness, gone as fast as he was there. And she falls on the fur she was wearing around her shoulders just a few minutes ago. 

She leans back against the building and tries to get her crying under control. The guardsman, no they were called warriors here, that had been patrolling the walls had heard and scared the attacker away finally makes it to her and stops just short, watching her. He’d saved her, but he’s clearly a little unsure of her, and the way he looks at her, a mix of wariness and pity, has her questioning her place here all over again. She stands, pulling in a deep breath, “Thank you” she gasps out, “mochof” she corrects herself and this time he nods a little, reaching out to help her up. Clarke knows him – he had helped Harper and Roma learn how to make tents. He asks if she is okay in broken English and she nods, thanks him again and assures him that she’s alright on her own, and he can continue his patrol. He watches her for a moment before he nods and goes back to the wall. 

She waits for her breathing to right itself and takes a few steps. She doesn’t want to bother Nyko with this, she can feel a couple of bruises forming but nothing is broken and the cut isn’t deep enough to need stitches, and Octavia and Lincoln have done so much for her already so in the end she just goes home. She makes sure the bolt is locked on the door and washes off before she lays down. She’s freezing cold, but unsure of how to tend to a fire in the fireplace without burning down Bellamy’s cabin, so she grabs his furs from the ground and drops them on top of hers on the bed before burrowing under all of them. She doesn’t even know who attacked her, but she’s hated almost universally here, so it could have been almost anyone. The thought terrifies her. She pulls a blanket under her chin and breaths in, when she realizes that it smells like Bellamy, she doesn’t think too hard about why she finds that comforting. 

When she wakes up the next morning, there are dark angry bruises on the back of her shoulders and a jagged line on her hip. She makes sure her clothes cover this well and makes a point of finding Octavia at breakfast so she won’t have to eat alone, even thought they hadn’t planned on eating together. Octavia allows her presence easily and Clarke is grateful, needing to feel not-alone for just a few minutes. Octavia quizzes her on Trigedasleng and smacks the back of her hand against Clarke’s shoulder when she gets one right in an excited gesture. Clarke hides the grimace behind a bite of foods and forces a laugh at Octavia’s excitement. 


	6. Stitches

The Arrangement. Chapter Six: Stitches 

Days after what Clarke refers to in her mind as ‘the incident’, Clarke is in a field picking leafy plants that Nyko told her have pain relieving properties when boiled into a tea. Her bruises are a yellow-orange color now and still tender to the touch, but are fading and she tries to let her memory of what happened and the fear she’s been carrying with her fade with them. It’s a work in progress, she still finds herself tensing at the slightest noise. She hears a commotion by the front gate, so she stuffs the plants she’s picked into the small bag slung across her shoulder and starts making her way that direction, curiosity getting the better of her. When she hears a woman scream and start to cry, she breaks into a run. 

She blinks a few times when they come into view – the group of warriors that had taken Lexa to Polis is coming through the gates, bloody and broken. She hears someone talking to the woman that screamed and thinks that her son is dead – can’t make out enough Trigedasleng to be completely sure, but it has her searching for Bellamy anyway. She finally catches sight of him, he’s helping another man into a stretcher and he nods at her when their eyes meet. In that moment, all her fears these past few days come rushing back, how much she wished she wasn’t alone in this place and how worried she’d unexpectedly been about him rush to the forefront of her mind and she is indescribably happy that he looks to be okay. She pushes through the crowd to him and as soon as he’s lowered the other man into the stretcher and it’s being carried to the Clinic she pushes into him, her arms winding around him, her face pressing into the place where his shoulder meets his neck. He hesitates for a moment, she understands – it’s really the first physical contact they’ve had, but he seems to shake out of his surprise, because when his arms slowly fold around her, they’re tight and strong and she wants to live in that feeling. 

She sighs softly before she rocks back down from the balls of her feet and steps into her own personal space, “What happened?” she breaths out ghosting her hands down his arms. He has smatterings of blood everywhere, from under his left ear to his arms to on his pants. 

“I’m okay. I’ll explain later.” He catches one of her hands, it’s shaking, and squeezes it softly. Lincoln comes up next to them – he’s got blood on him too, and gives Clarke a quick, one armed hug before Octavia comes running up, practically tackling Lincoln in a hug. Octavia turns and hugs Bellamy too, he drops Clarke’s hand in the force of it and she steps back. 

“I’m going to go help Nyko” she half whispers, not sure that any of them hear her. Octavia is talking sharp and low, in Trigedasleng with Bellamy and Lincoln, probably about what happened to them, but Bellamy catches her eye just before she turns to walk away and gives her a look she’s unsure of. 

She spends hours in the Clinic with Nyko, trying to help. But, no one will drink anything she mixes or boils and no one will let her have any part of stitching them up or cleaning their wounds and she wants to scream with how frustrated it makes her – she wants to help and they aren’t interested and it makes anger prick at the back of her eyes. So, she cuts bandages and hands them to Nyko. She cleans blood stained pots and fills them with clean boiled water and sets them next to Nyko. She takes his used tools, sterilizes them, and sets them clean and ready next to Nyko. Hours later, when everyone has been helped, she helps Nyko clean and reorganize and just before she leaves he puts a hand on her arm, “I am sorry, Clarke. And I am grateful for your help” she smiles, because none of this is his fault and he has done nothing but help her, “they will come around” she scoffs a little but nods anyway, smiles before she leaves. 

When she pushes the door of the cabin open the fireplace is crackling lightly with a tall fire and Bellamy is by the closet in long stretchy pants, pulling a shirt out of a drawer. He clearly just got out of the bath, his hair is wet and the blood is washed away. He turns at the sound of the door opening and Clarke sees a long, angry gash along his stomach. He’s clearly stitched it himself and hot, unbidden tears spring to her eyes while he pulls his shirt on. She swallows hard, trying to will them away while he adjusts the shirt and crosses over to her, stopping by the table. “Are you okay?” she asks quietly, gesturing towards his stomach. Her voice hardly shakes at all, and he probably won’t notice, she reasons, leaning against the door. 

His eyebrows knit together, confused, but he nods. “Yeah.” He says simply and she nods. She doesn’t like that the people here don’t trust her for even the most basic things, but she understands it, they view her almost exclusively as a traitor – someone who aligned with them and broke it the moment more Sky People showed up. She thought, though, that Bellamy at least respected her, understood that it hadn’t been as simple as that. She can’t believe that he didn’t come to the Clinic. That even he doesn’t trust her to do something a basic as stitch him up. 

She nods a little, “I would have stitched it for you” she tries to make it sound like a joke, but with how tired she is and how hurt she is by his lack of trust, even she knows it falls flat. 

“I didn’t want to be a bother” Bellamy answers, seeming confused by the conversation. 

She scoffs a little, “I wasn’t doing much” she mumbles under her breath. She can see the confusion in his eyes and can tell he’s about to speak again so she sighs softly, “I’m going to wash up” she looks down at herself, covered in grime and other people’s blood and closes the bathroom door behind her before he has a chance to respond. 

She takes a quick bath, washing blood and dirt off her body and out of her hair. Her bruises have faded to the point where you almost have to be looking for them to find them, finally starting to blend with her pale skin, and her cut is just a line along her hip with some discoloration around it. She’s glad – if Bellamy doesn’t trust her, she’s not so sure she should be trusting him to have her back as much as she thought she could. When she’s decided that she can’t hide in the bathroom any longer, she shakes her head at herself a little, wet hair sloshing around her face, and pulls on a fresh set of clothes, pulling the arms of her top down to cover her fingers as she pushes the door that will let her back into the main room softly. It smells good- that’s the first thing she notices, and a glance at the fireplace tells her why; there is a pot with some sort of stew heating above the fire and she smiles a little, realizing for the first time how hungry she is. 

She glances around the cabin and finds Bellamy sitting on the bed, she’d never separated the furs and blanket back out – never remade his makeshift bed on the floor, with his feet on the ground and his elbows on his knees head hanging in the middle. He hasn’t noticed her yet, which itself is strange, but it gives her a moment to really look at him. He looks exhausted and even with the blood washed off his skin you can tell he went through something. She feels badly for reacting so strongly to the self-done stitches. She can’t help how it makes her feel, but she can wait and feel it when he isn’t back fresh from some sort of fight. 

She shuffles a little further into the room and it grabs his attention, he glances over at her and sits up straighter, starts to push his hands on his knees to stand, but she holds her hand out in a ‘stay there’ gesture and he settles back. She feels like she has to fill the silence so, “It was really cold at night, so I may have stolen the blankets” she tries to make her voice light and teasing, wants to offer that easiness to him. 

He blows out a long breath, like he’s glad they’re not going to fight, and nods. “You _could_ have made a fire.” His voice is the same cautious teasing. 

“I _could_ burn the cabin down” she deadpans with a shrug. He smirks and she smiles. The stew on the fire starts to boil and Bellamy starts to stand again, but Clarke mumbles “I’ve got it” and pulls it off the fire. She pours it into two bowls and gets spoons and crosses to the bed, handing him one and sitting next to him. She scoots back until her back touches against the wall of the cabin and after a moment, he does the same. She pulls one of he blankets across her legs and tosses it over his, so they’re both covered. He breathes out a little laugh and the corner of her mouth ticks up in a smile. 

They eat quietly for a while, elbows occasionally bumping as they do. In the quiet like this, it’s easy for whatever anger Clarke has to dissipate. But, for some reason, it makes his lack of trust feel more like a betrayal, makes it hurt worse. He pauses, spoon stirring the remaining contents in his bowl, “We made the trip to Polis fine, made good time even”. He’s quiet and she turns a little to half-face him. He takes another bite, buying time maybe, so she eats quietly while she waits, trying to give him the time. “We were ambushed on the way back”. He leans over the bed to set his bowl on the ground and she does the same. “Azgeda” he says as sits back up, rubbing his hands together for something to do. Clarke brings her knees up to her chest, watching him. “Their territory has expanded, Lincolns maps were out of date, so we didn’t know - weren’t really expecting the fight, but…”. He trails off, shakes his head a little. He pulls in a long breath, “We lost two people”. He seems far away when he says it, like he’s drifting back to that place. Clarke reaches over and puts a hand on his arm, just above his wrist, just to try to pull him back. He looks over at her and smiles softly, she thinks it’s the softest he’s ever looked at her – the most open he’s been with her. “You saw the woman at the gates, and I told the other family while you were at the Clinic.” They’re quiet for a moment, until he shakes his head a little and his eyes change, “That’s all going to come to a head soon – the Heda and the Ice Queen” he says and Clarke nods a little, not completely sure what that means. 

“I’m sorry” Clarke whispers, not sure what else she can offer him, but wishing she could make this better for him somehow. He nods a little before letting the back of his head rest against the wall of the cabin, closing his eyes. He pulls in a deep breath and breaths out, ‘how were things here?’ and she half shrugs one shoulder, he can’t see her, but he must feel it, because his eyes drift open and he looks concerned. She scoots back and lets her head fall back against the cabin wall, mimicking his position, “Octavia taught me a little Trigedasleng” she says with a shy smile, it’s not the answer to his question – but it’s not a lie either. 

“Yeah?” he asks, not turning to look at her – she’s glad, she knows the tops of her cheeks are pink and doesn’t want him to see. “How was that?” he asks quietly. 

“It was nice” she answers, “I still don’t know very much, but it was nice”. Now that she’s full and warm and her anger has deserted her, she’s getting sleepy and her words are coming slower. She wonders if the same is true for Bellamy who just nods in answer. They sit like that for a while – not speaking or touching, just…close. 

When Clarke wakes up, her head is in Bellamy’s lap and her legs are curled onto the bed. She blinks a few times, the night before coming back to her – they must have fallen asleep sitting on the bed. She only realizes that Bellamy must already be awake when she feels his fingers pulling through her hair in a nice, easy, repetitive motion. She’s tempted to close her eyes and lay still awhile longer – it’s nice, his fingers in her hair, the feeling of human contact she’s been deprived of since coming to live with the Trikru, the hope that maybe she isn’t as alone as she’s felt. But, it feels dishonest, and she can’t think of a way to let him know that she’s awake, but doesn’t want him to stop with it being unbelievably awkward, so she shifts a little before she pushes herself up, his hands falling away from her as she does. 

“Morning” he whispers to her, low and husky as she sits. 

“Morning” she whispers back, pulling her hand across her face, “how long have you been awake?” she asks, pulling her legs under herself. 

“Not long” he answers, stretching a little. “Sleep okay?” he asks. 

She nods, “Yeah, sorry – I didn’t mean to sleep on you” she feels self-conscious when she says it. 

He half-smiles and half-shrugs, running a hand through the hair at the back of his neck, “It’s okay”. She smiles – maybe he’s a little self-conscious too. 

He starts to gather their bowls from dinner the night before and stand, but the motion pulls at his stitches and he stops, pressing his hand to his stomach for a moment. He’s about to continue when Clarke reaches out and grabs his hand, pulling him backwards, so he stays sitting. He looks back her, eyebrow cocked in a question. “Let me look at that?” she sounds small and nervous, even to her own ears, when she says it. 

He looks at her for a long moment, like he’s trying to figure something out, but he nods and sits on the edge of the bed, pulling his shirt up. “It probably wasn’t great for you to sleep sitting up. For these I mean” she ghosts her hand over the stitches and glances up at him. 

“Wasn’t really a plan, Princess”. It’s not the first time a Grounder has called her Princess – they sneer ‘Princess of the Sky’ at her all the time, throwing the insult at her to imply she’s everything from a spoiled brat to a bitch – but it is the first time it hasn’t been mean or an insult. She smiles when she rolls her eyes, deciding that it might be okay when Bellamy says it. She tells him to stay put and he nods while she goes to the closet and grabs some antibiotic cream she brought with her from Arkadia. She spreads it across his wound, sitting on the floor next to his feet, to see it properly. “I should have just had you stitch this in the first place” he mumbles when she touches his poorly done stitches. 

She clears her throat a little, she’ll never forgive herself if she doesn’t ask, so she swallows her nerves and doesn’t look up at his face when she says, “So why didn’t you?”. 

He must have realized that it was bothering her, because he blows out a long breath, “I didn’t realize how bad it was at first, and then when I did I was here and you were at the Clinic and I know a lot of people were a lot worse off than I was, I didn’t want to…” he trails off, “I guess it just seemed trivial to come to the Clinic, or you, with” he says and she nods a little, still not looking up at him. He touches the side of her face lightly and her eyes snap up to him, “That’s all it was, really” he says and she nods slowly before going back to what she was doing. After a moment, she lowers his shirt and smooths it out, she’s about to stand up when he says lowly, “Can I ask you something?” and she nods. 

His thumb hooks into the hem of her shirt and he pulls it lightly so the cut there is exposed and she closes her eyes when his index fingers traces the outline of the cut on her hip softly, “What happened?”. She’s quiet for a long moment so he speaks again, “Your shirt slipped a little while you were asleep, I didn’t…” he trails off and she shakes her head, she doesn’t think he was trying peek or anything while she was sleeping. He pulls her shirt back down, hiding the paling yellow around the sharp line again, and soothes it out, his thumb running along the skin of her side, “What happened?” he almost whispers, but his eyes have gone dark and angry under the concern and she nods a little. 

“It was nothing” she says and he shakes his head a little. She turns, sitting on the floor with her back against the bed and her legs stretched out in front of her. Her side is pressed against Bellamy’s leg, and she can feel the way he’s a little fidgety, trying to be patient with her, through that. She pulls in a deep breath, “I don’t even know who it was, but they grabbed me when I was walking back to the cabin after working at the Clinic one day while you were gone.” She swallows and can feel Bellamy tense next to her. “Someone came by before anything…it was more scary than it was anything else” she says, rubbing at her eyes a little. 

It’s quiet for a long moment, before Bellamy scoots off the edge of the bed and sits next to her on the floor and pulls in a deep breath, “I know that coming here…living here, wasn’t your choice. I know that I wasn’t your choice,” she looks over at him sharply, to interrupt him – he’s not wrong, it wasn’t her choice, but the way he says it makes it sound like there is something wrong with him and that’s not the case, “it’s okay” he says with a small self-deprecating shrug. She still wants to interrupt, but he doesn’t let her, continuing before she’s really processed him, “But I want you to know that you can trust me” he’s quiet and he speaks slow and deliberate, and she knows he’s choosing his words carefully. “We’re not a traditional marriage, but we can be allies…friends.” He sounds almost hopeful and she nods a little, pushes against is shoulder with hers lightly. “We can trust each other,” he bumps her shoulder with his, “maybe look out for one another” he finishes, glancing over at her. 

She nods slowly, “I know I wasn’t your choice either – I know that you didn’t choose to have me…” she trails off, gesturing around the cabin, “invade your home” she settles on and he smirks a little, “I trust you” she says it because it’s true, and because she wants him to know it, “and I want you to trust me too. I want us to have each other’s backs” she says. 

“I do trust you” he says, leaning a little of his weight against her. She believes him and smiles in that – letting herself live in the feeling of having someone to trust in all of this. 

\------------------------- 

Clarke helps out in the Clinic most of the day, and Bellamy disappears to speak with Anya and the others in charge in the wake of Azgeda’s attack and they don’t see each other until the sun is starting to set and they both come back to the cabin. Clarke is reading when Bellamy comes in, but she notices his hands immediately. “What happened?” she breaths out, putting her book on the table. 

“What do you mean?” Bellamy askes, fringed indifference on his face. But his fingers flex as he says it, telling her that he knows exactly what she means. It’s quiet for a moment – she refuses to ask the question that she already knows he knows she wants answered, and he is clearly reluctant to answer. His jaw ticks, “It’s nothing” he mumbles, crossing to get a towel to wrap his bleeding knuckles in. She thinks he probably thought he’s get to the cabin before her, that he could hide it, he didn’t think she’d notice. 

“It’s not nothing” she stands, crossing to him and taking the towel before running water over his knuckles and checking them over. She breaths out his name, some of the cuts are deep and it only takes her another second to realize that these are the marks of someone who got in a fight. She glances around the rest of him; his face, his arms, tries to remember if he walked in with any kind of limp. He looks fine, though, other than his knuckles, which she rewraps quietly before she looks up at him. “What happened?” she whispers, shaking her head a little. 

He’s quiet and won’t quite meet her eyes so she pushes against him a little, trying to pull his attention to her. When he finally looks down at her, his eyes are dark and a little wild and whatever fight he was in mush have just happened, because he’s still coming down from the adrenaline. “Bellamy?” she breaths out and he brings one of his hands to her shoulder, she can feel the towel on her cheek, it tickles, but she’s too focused to notice. 

He lets out a long breath, she can feel it against her forehead, “You don’t have to worry about being attacked here again.” He mumbles it. 

She sighs, taking a half step back, “I didn’t want you to do that” she says and he nods as his hand falls from her shoulder. 

“I know” 

“Then, why…?” she trails off, eyes snapping up to his. 

“Clarke…” he trails off and sights, shaking his head like he’s going to try a different approach. “I didn’t do anything after what happened at the Clinic, but this…this was something else entirely.” He shakes his head a little. “I know that you want people here to come around on their own, and they will, but you have to be safe here. That has to be more important that whatever point your trying to make.” She wants to interject, but he shakes his head, “You were supposed to be safe here, that was the whole point of,” he gestures to himself a little and pulls in a deep breath as the fight leaves him and he deflates a little, “I’m sorry that you weren’t safe here, but you will be” 

She sighs a little. She didn’t want him to fight on her behalf, but it is hard to argue with him wanting her to be safe. So, she nods a little and moves closer to him. “Thank you” she says quietly and he lets out a long, relieved breath. She almost askes who it was that attacked her and what exactly Bellamy did to him, but she thinks it might be better for her not to know, so she just nods before she sits down. 

\----------------------------

That night, when they’re getting ready for bed, Bellamy grabs a handful of the furs and blankets on the bed and is about to throw them on the floor when Clarke comes up behind him, “You can’t sleep on the floor” she says and he’s about to argue, so she taps the back of her hand against the line of stitches on his stomach lightly and rolls her eyes at the face he makes. “We can share” she doesn’t look at him when she says it. 

The bed is large, the size of two of her beds on the Ark pushed together, and maybe they should have just shared since the start but sharing a bed with a man she didn’t trust felt like an awful idea. But this man, this man she does trust, and making him sleep on the floor seems cruel. “Clarke,” he starts. 

“Seriously, it’s fine” she says, fringing an indifference she doesn’t quite feel. 

In the end, they share the bed and it is large, and they don’t touch at all. But, she does feel safe and she knows it wasn’t a bad idea when his voice, low and a little gravely comes from next to her, “Good night”. 


	7. You Can Never Go Home Again

The Arrangement. Chapter Seven: You Can Never Go Home Again 

She pushes the handful of fever-reducing berries that Nyko gave her in her bag, double checking that she has everything. “Ready?” Bellamy asks, coming out of the bathroom and putting shoes on. 

She finishes the quick inventory of her bag and closes it, “Yeah” she says, glancing over at him and smiling. “Yeah” she repeats, more to herself. She’s nervous, more so than she thought she’d be and she knows Bellamy is picking up on that when he touches her shoulder lightly as he crosses behind her to pick something up and toss it on the table. 

They meet the rest of the party at the gates. Lincoln and Octavia are coming, along with a handful of others – though not all of them seem happy about it. Mostly, they were picked by Anya because they had some skill that she thought would be beneficial – construction mostly. With winter coming and Arkadia residents living mostly in the remains of the ship or in flimsy tents, building a couple of shelter cabins will have to be the first priority. 

The trip is mostly quiet, and as they get close to Arkadia, Clarke finds herself slowing down a little. She doesn’t even realize she’s doing it, but Bellamy must, because he matches her pace, “You okay?” he asks quietly and she pulls in a deep breath, nodding. 

“I feel like I don’t belong anywhere now” she says, surprising herself with the admission. “I don’t belong with the Trikru, they make that clear” she says quietly, gesturing to the group walking a little ahead of them, “But I don’t belong with the Skikru anymore either…so what am I now?” she says. 

“Clarke -” but whatever Bellamy was going to say is cut off by the sound of Arkadia’s gate opening. She smiles at Bellamy, a little sadly, and pushes her way to the front of the group so that when the gates open she’ll be the first person through. By the time she’s standing there, Bellamy is next to her again and she smiles to herself. 

She takes one step into Arkadia and Jasper tackles her. Literally, they fall to the ground in a mess of limbs, both laughing. Bellamy stays close, looks tense at the exchange, but doesn’t say anything, just watches her. “Miss me?” she says to Jasper when he helps her up. 

“Not really” he says sarcastically when they’re both standing again. She laughs when she punches his arm. 

Jasper is eyeing Bellamy cautiously, he has always been the most wary of the Grounders – thought after getting speared and tied to a tree, Clarke can understand why. so, she shakes her head a little, “Jasper, this is Bellamy. Bellamy, Jasper” she says and they nod at each other as Monty and Miller come up. They both hug her - they all stay standing though, which she supposes is a win. After a few more seconds, she is surrounded by what is left of the Hundred and she smiles as they ask her questions, most wanting to make sure she is alright. Finn tries to get close to her, but she edges away. 

Her mother and Kane emerge from the broken pieces of the Ark and she tenses, an involuntary reaction that she knows she might never shake. Anya breaks away from the Grounders and meets Abby and Kane half way, talking with them for a moment, before assigning her men jobs and people from Arkadia to work with. They split off easily, if mumbling a little, starting to work. Clarke closes her eyes, thinking about when it was just the Hundred on the ground, how they worked with the Grounders, learned from them, and how different this is. The Grounders were willing to, maybe not trust them then, but give them the benefit of the doubt – the open hatred and mistrust they have now, after being betrayed, is apparent. 

A few of the Hundred remember Octavia, and Harper and Monroe make their way to her hesitantly, to say hello. Octavia is tense and guarded, but she holds conversation with them, eventually walking with them to see something, already softening towards them. 

The Hundred eventually disperse, finding jobs and ways to help and she’s left with Bellamy. She pulls her hand through her hair, and it about to say something when she realizes that her mother is walking towards them. “I’ll let you…” he trails off, tilting his head towards her approaching her mother. 

She swallows, “Yeah” she says quietly. The only thing he knows about her mom is that she’s the one that agreed to give Clarke to an arranged marriage. He catches her eye before he walks away, not going far. He stands near Miller, who is standing guard near the gate and she thinks she sees them talk. “Mom” she says when Abby reaches her. 

“Clarke” she returns. Abby moves to hug her, but Clarke sidesteps it and her mom sighs. “You look well” she says instead. 

“For a mail-order-bride” Clarke says. She’s lucky that Bellamy is the kind of man that he is. But there is a different…much worse way this whole thing could have worked out and she is acutely aware that her mother agreed to this having no idea what kind of man Bellamy is. She shrugs a little and pulls the bag of medicinal plants out of her bag and holds them out to her mother – “they’re labeled, what they do, but Nyko says that you should prepare for sickness when the weather turns”. 

“Nyko?” Abby asks, taking the bag and turning it over in her hands a few times. Clarke is reminded that when the Ark came down, they didn’t even consider getting to know the Grounders, didn’t even try an alliance. She wonders how she could be so different from the woman who raised her – how the Hundred, a bunch of underage delinquents, could have been so much better at communication with the Grounders when they first came down than an Ark full of adults were. 

“He’s their healer” she says, short and annoyed. 

Abby looks suspicious, “Can this be trusted?” she asks. 

“Of course,” Clarke answers. She’s about to say something else when she sees him – Thelonious Jaha, walking out of the Ark. She feels like she’s been punched in the stomach and all she can see when she looks at him is Wells dying and her father being floated and for a moment she can’t breathe. Her mom follows her line of sight and explains that Jaha had found his way down in an escape pod and she nods. “Okay” she breaths out, she tells her mom she’s going to go check on things and walks away. She can feel Bellamy’s eyes on her, but he doesn’t follow her and she’s glad. 

She makes her way around camp, checking in on all of the Hundred. She’s about done – her mental checklist almost complete when she turns a corner and sees Raven, she’s talking to Lincoln – it sounds like they are going to plant a garden and Raven is going to try to rig an irrigation system. It sounds ambitious, especially when she hears ‘greenhouse’ and realizes they’re not planning to wait for spring. She smiles though – if anyone can do it, it’s Raven. “Hey” she says, announcing her presence and crossing the rest of the way to them. 

Raven surprises her with a quick hug. Lincoln leaves under the guise of getting something to help with the planning, it’s a flimsy excuse but she appreciates it all the same, he smiles when he passes by her. Raven fills her in on all the goings on at camp – tells her that she doubts that the Hundred will be able to stay with the Ark forever. Clarke sighs – she saw this coming, but it’s concerning all the same. They’ll have to stay through winter at least, there’s no choice there, and Clarke hopes that the fractures can start to heal in that time – knows it’s a long shot but can’t help but hope for it anyway. They sit and talk until Lincoln makes his way back to them and she stands, “I’ll see you later” she smiles and Raven nods. 

She’s crossing camp, passing a few of the Grounders, starting to build a cabin with about ten Arkadians when Finn catches up with her. She wasn’t avoiding him – she planned to talk to him, like she was all the other members of the Hundred, she would have preferred doing it on her terms though. Not with him catching the back of her arm and telling her that she didn’t have to go back with those savages, that he found a bunker no one knows about, that they could just run away. She jerks her arm away, takes a step back from him, “What do you think happens to the alliance if I just leave?” she asks, low and angry. 

“Who cares?” he hisses, “your mom just sent you with them, why do you care?” she rolls her eyes but he is undeterred. “Clarke, I love you” he says, desperate. 

“Don’t” she says harsher than she means to, shaking her head. “Just…don’t” she repeats, quitter this time. She walks away, leaving Finn to watch her, hoping she won’t have to have this conversation again. 

The last of the Hundred left she hasn’t talked to is Monty and she finds him in a tent with Octavia who is holding a can that says ‘explosive – be careful – it’ll blow your face off…put this down, Jasper’. “I’ve never felt so safe” she deadpans and Octavia laughs, giving the can a little shake in her direction. She rolls her eyes. Octavia gives them a few minutes, she doesn’t make a thin excuse for leaving like Lincoln did, just says ‘I feel like you guys want to talk, so I’m going to go…away for a few’. Clarke thanks her as she passes and then sits next to Monty. He has the same questions that most of the other Hundred did – if she’s safe, if she’s being treated well, if she thinks she’ll ever be able to come back home, if she thinks the alliance will hold. He tells her, like Raven did, that he doubts the Hundred will stay with the Ark forever. They talk until Octavia comes back, and Clarke smacks a kiss to his cheek before standing and letting herself out of the tent. 

It’s getting dark, and she knows they’ll leave soon, so she wanders around camp quietly. Miller’s dad steps down form the ladder he’s on to ask her how she’s doing and she smiles when she says she’s okay. He nods, says ‘good’ and climbs back up. Kane is talking with Anya and Clarke looks at the progress made on the cabins – winter is coming fast and the progress is good, but she’s sure some of the Grounders will come back to help finish them in the next couple of days, and she assumes she’ll come with them then or soon after, so she doesn’t have the same pit in her stomach at leaving that she did the first time, she knows she’ll see her friends again soon. 

Anya goes to the gate and calls her people there. Bellamy appears at her side to ask if she’s ready to go. She pulls in a deep breath, looking around,” Yeah” she breaths out, “Yeah”. He walks with her to the gates, she waves to the people inside and they leave. It feels weird. She slows her pace as she walks, until she’s at the very back of the group, and Bellamy does the same matching her, like she hoped he would. She looks around a little, nervous, “Can we go somewhere?” she asks. 

“Go somewhere?” he’s confused. 

She nods, “There is something I want to do. We’d still be back at your village tonight” she says. 

“Sure” he says, a little hesitant, “Give me a moment?” he says before jogging up a little, to where Octavia is walking and talking to her a moment, presumably so she won’t worry when she turns around and he isn’t with the group anymore. He drops back again so he is walking next to her, “Where to, Princess?” 

She smiles and leads him away from the group. They walk mostly in silence, and not for too long before a break in the trees reveals the Drop Ship. Clarke smiles, leaning a hand against the ship in the middle of a make shift camp. “All told, this was my home for less than a month, but it still feels more significant than Arkadia”. She says, not looking at him. 

“You survived here. You overcame the impossible here. That’s not nothing, Clarke” he says, right behind her. She leans back a little, so she’s pressed against him, just for a moment, before she straightens back up and looks around a little. “You need a minute?” he asks, reading her easily. 

“Do you mind?” She asks. 

“Of course not. I’ll look around, take your time.” He says, wandering into the Drop Ship and looking at all the technology that brought Clarke and the Hundred to Earth. 

She walks around the camp slowly. When the Ark came down, they were forced to move quickly and without warning, and she only came back here when they buried Wells, refusing to do so at Arkadia. She touches one of the tents, remembering them all trying to figure out the best way to cut and hang pieces of the parachute to best form shelters. She smiles softly at the memory, at how far they came. It doesn’t take her long to make her way outside the gate – to the neat row of graves, to the people they lost early. She sits down in the dirt, next to a slab of wood that Jasper had carved ‘Wells Jaha’ on while she cried and Miller and Monty dug. It feels like a million years ago. It feels like yesterday. 

She’s not sure how long she sits there, just that she’s bent forward, hair brushing the dirt, gasping out sobs, when Bellamy finds her. He sits next to her, not touching but close enough that she can feel his body heat radiating off of him. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t tell her it’s okay, and she’s grateful. It’s not okay, Wells deserved better and she hadn’t been able to be better for him – hadn’t been able to save him. She hiccups a few times, getting her breathing under control, taking a few deep breaths, and rubbing her face with her hands. Bellamy sweeps her hair over her shoulder, getting the ends out of the dirt, and watches her compose herself. “I can let you be alone with…Wells,” he reads the name of the wooden plank, “if you want, I just wanted to make sure you were okay” he says quietly. 

She shifts a little closer to him, pulls in a deep breath, “Wells was my best friend on the Ark” she says. Bellamy doesn’t say anything, just settles his hand on the small of her back, anchoring her. “We knew each other our whole lives, so when my dad found a flaw in the oxygen system, I told Wells… I didn’t know how not to tell Wells.” She pulls in a deep breath, leans into Bellamy’s hand on her back. “My dad was floated a week later.” She looks at Bellamy, he looks confused, but she knows he won’t interrupt her so she explains anyway, “killed – that’s how the Ark punished criminals, and they called him one to keep him quiet”. She realizes how little they know about each other in this moment. “I was so sure it was Wells that turned him in, that no one else knew, and it had to be him. He didn’t deny it and I told him that I hated him, that I never wanted to see him again, that I wish it was him that had been…” she trails off, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “When he found out the Ark was sending us to the Ground, he committed a crime so he’d come with us, so he could watch out for me, but I still hated him.” She shakes her head, “I wasted so much time hating him”. She’s quiet for a long moment. “We were here less than a week before I figured it out – it was my mom and not Wells that turned my dad in, that had me arrested…all of it” she sniffles, dragging a hand across her eyes. “Soon after, the Ark came down and went to war with the Grounders. When Wells fell into an old trap, we didn’t know how to help him, the spear tips were poisoned, and we didn’t know the cure, and in the end we just…we watched him die”. 

“Shit, Clarke” Bellamy whispers, scooting a little closer to her and sliding his hand from the small of her back around her shoulders and pulling her closer to him. He vaguely remembers Nyko asking Anya and Lexa for permission to help a Sky Person who fell in to a trap, argued that it was one who hadn’t harmed them, but they were actively at war and he wasn’t let to. At the time, he’d agreed with the decision, but now, holding Clarke while she cries it’s hard to remember the resolve he felt in that decision. “I’m so sorry, Clarke” he mummers, his lips brushing her hair when he speaks. 


	8. The More Things Change...

The Arrangement. Chapter Eight: The More Things Change…

It’s been a while since that day at the drop ship, and everything hasn’t changed between her and Bellamy, but enough has. Bellamy is still quiet and a little naturally standoffish and withdrawn, but now Clarke knows it’s not about her. She’s not nervous when he’s quiet at dinner and she’s not always worried that the precarious balance in their dynamic will break – she feels like she can trust him now, trust their relationship in a way she couldn’t before and it pulls a weight off her chest she hadn’t even been completely aware of, it lets her breath in a way she hadn’t know she was missing. 

It seems like he starts making more of an effort after that too – he keeps his conversations around her in English, as long as the person he’s talking to speaks it, and if they don’t he whispers translations in her ear as they talk, even though most of them hate it. He makes sure she’s eating and getting enough food, that she’s not eating by herself, even coming into the Clinic to eat with her when his schedule allows. He tries to make her feel less like an outsider than she is. 

She learns, as well, that he is a person who touches casually. She’d noticed this, of course, with Octavia but never thought that their relationship would take on that quality. She’d already learned that touch was how he offered comfort, but that felt very different from casual touches. Until, one day when they were walking to the fires to eat he’d walked with his hand at the small of her back, and the next day when he’d stopped by the Clinic he’d gotten her attention with a hand on her shoulder, and it continued like that. She’s almost completely sure he doesn’t realize he’s doing it, that’s it’s something he does sub-consciously with people that he cares about, and that makes it even harder for her to figure out how she feels about it. She’s never been casually affectionate, and she wonders if it bothers him that she doesn’t reciprocate that, wonders if he even notices. 

He shifts a little next to her – it’s cold and he pulls the blankets up around his chin a little more in his sleep and she smiles a little. He looks so different when he sleeps, peaceful and content. She wishes he could looks like this when he was awake, like the weight of the world wasn’t on his shoulders, but she’s never seen him like that with his eyes open. 

For as much as he touches her in the day, he’s never once touched her in bed, not even in his sleep. She thinks it must be intentional – a clear sign that he’s not looking for anything from her here. He’s never so much as accidently rolled into her in the middle of the night, and if she does, he flinches out her touch so quickly he’s come close to rolling off the bed a couple of times. She’s not sure how she feels about it, she doesn’t want him – not in that way, but his working so hard not to touch her here can also feel like rejection when she’s tired and not thinking completely straight. 

He sniffles a little, pulling in an uneven breath and she pulls the blankets even closer around him, touching his cheek lightly before pulling back to her own space. She knows he’s sleeping soundly when he doesn’t flinch. Everywhere you go in the village, people are coughing into their elbows and sniffling – Bellamy tells her not to worry, that it happens every year when the weather changes. But…it kind of scares her. She’s not really been around sickness before, even on the Ark when she’d worked at Medical and treated outbreaks, it was always something that felt so far away from her and the people she cared about. Now, Lincoln’s laugh turns into a coughing fit and Octavia trails off in the middle on a translation to sneeze and Bellamy sniffles next to her and she can’t help the string of fear that runs down her spine. This isn’t the Ark, she reminds herself, Nyko is well prepared with the medicine he says he needs and the people she cares about here won’t die because they hit their medical allotment and aren’t let to have anymore, the people here will be cared for. She’s realized, early on at Medical at the Ark – most people that died could have been saved, if only they hadn’t met their medication allotment before they were better. 

She adjusts a little, moving onto her side and wincing a little when her knee gives a little pop of protest. Somehow, her Trigedasleng lessons with Octavia have evolved into Trigedasleng and Fighting lessons with Octavia. She’s grateful for it – is sick of the feeling of helplessness she has around the village, but it’s so different from anything she’s ever done and it leaves her tired and frustrated almost every time. 

\------------------------------------ 

She’s sitting in a chair near the front of the Clinic, reading a book she brought from the cabin. Nyko is on the other side of the wall, in his home, getting some sleep. There had been an accident overnight and he’d been awakened to help stitch someone up. He tells Clarke that if someone comes in, she can just knock on the wall and that’ll wake him up and send him back to the Clinic. Her mother had an admittance clerk at Medical on the Ark. Someone who had tried to become a doctor but hadn’t been able to keep up in the internship phase, her job was to assess the injuries of the patients who came in and help Abby decide who was seen first based on severity, as well as fetch things that Abby required. Clarke has once heard her talking to a friend on break about how much she hated it, how she had skills and knowledge that was being wasted and it was incredibly frustrating – how never being about to touch a patient was demoralizing and maybe she shouldn’t have taken this job, because being so close to this but so far removed was torture. Clarke hasn’t understood at the time – she does now. 

She’s starting a new chapter when the door bangs open and Bellamy is rushing inside. He’s carrying Octavia and being trailed by Lincoln and he’s laying Octavia down on the table in front of her before she’s completely processed what’s going on, “What…how…what happened?” she asks. She pulls Octavia shirt away from the angry gash running down her side and looks at it. She grabs a towel to start absorbing blood Bellamy puts his hand on her arm, circling her wrist with his fingers, she freezes, sure that he’s going to say he’d rather Nyko take care of Octavia, but he whispers ‘please’ just barley loud enough for her to hear, his eyes broken and open and pleading, and she nods. It’s a different kind of trust, the kind hardest for him to give, and she wants to revel in that but there isn’t time. When he takes his hand away there’s a little ring of Octavia’s blood where it had been and she swallows as she presses against Octavia’s wound. 

She tells Lincoln to knock on the wall, and he does without asking why and after he comes and hovers on the edge of Clarke’s space. He tells her that he and Octavia went to the river, wanting to take advantage of what will probably be one of the last nice days of the season and a panther had attacked out of nowhere. She sees now that the blood on Lincoln’s arm isn’t Octavia’s, as she’d first thought, but his own, him having been scratched as well. But, it doesn’t look deep or life threatening and Octavia’s is so she can’t worry about that now. 

Nyko comes in as Clarke is cutting away the bottom of Octavia’s shirt and looking around the wound to see if anything internal was damaged and assess the situation a lot quicker than Clarke’s brain had been able to keep up. He pulls Lincoln to the side and starts working on cleaning and stitching his arm. Octavia moans a little on the table, probably in response to Clarke probing the wound, and Clarke can see the way Bellamy and Lincoln both jump in their skin a little. Bellamy stops looking over Clarke’s shoulder to move next to Octavia’s head – his hand combing through her hair and tears in his eyes. 

Hours later, Octavia is stitched up and still asleep on the table. Clarke has washed up the best she could and is sitting next to Bellamy who is sitting next to Octavia, his hand over her wrist. Lincoln is across from them, his hand in Octavia’s hair. They’re both just watching Octavia and the whole cabin is quiet and still. Nyko comes back balancing several plates on one hand and opening the door with the other. Someone had gone to the river to collect the panther that Lincoln and Octavia killed when it attacked – the meat and fur too valuable to abandon, particularly in winter, and that meat is what’s on the plates Nyko sets down. One in front of Lincoln and one in front of Bellamy and Clarke, while he keeps one. No one eats, even though Nyko reminds Lincoln that he lost a lot of blood and that Bellamy had given some of his to Octavia and they both should. 

Bellamy pushes their plate towards her and mumbles quietly “You should eat, you’ve been,” he gestures around a little, “you should eat” he repeats quietly. She nods a little but doesn’t move otherwise and he doesn’t push it. She wants to do something to comfort him in some way, but she’s never been good at that and doesn’t know how. She pulls in a slow breath and reaches out slowly, putting her hand on his shoulder, it’s not natural for her – offering physical contact as comfort, but it’s what he does when she is upset so she thinks it might be how he’d like to be comforted as well. He doesn’t react at first and she worried she’s miscalculated and made everything worse. But slowly, his hand comes up and takes hers, he intertwines their fingers and pulls her hand into his lap squeezing her fingers lightly, all without ever taking his eyes off Octavia. He looks a little less unfocused now, though, and when she squeezes his finger back he half-smiles for a brief moment and she’s relieved. 

Later, when Octavia wakes up, she tries to sit and Lincoln and Bellamy both put hands on her shoulders to keep her from exerting herself and when Octavia laughs, it turns into a cough, but it’s still how Clarke knows Octavia is going to be okay. She checks Octavia over as quickly as she can and then steps back so that Bellamy and Lincoln can fold in around her. She leans against the wall of the cabin and watches for a moment, until Nyko comes over to her and tells her that she did good and she dunks her head a little to hide her pleased smile and says thank you. 

She still has blood on her clothes and doesn’t think she’ll be missed with Octavia just waking up, so she slips out and walks back to Bellamy’s cabin. Word has disseminated pretty quickly that she was the one to operate on Octavia and people eye her with curiosity as she goes by – it’s better than the open distrust or hatred she’d gotten before, so she counts it as a win. When she gets to the cabin she changes clothes and washes her face and hands, blowing out long calming breaths as she does. Her hair is starting to frizz and fly in a million different directions, so she pulls it out of the elastic and lets it fall around her shoulders, combing through it with her fingers before pulling it back up. It still looks awful, she still looks tired and dirty, but she lets out one more deep breath before she lets herself back out of the cabin. 

When she steps back into the Clinic, Octavia is propped up against the wall and drinking water that Lincoln holds for her. Lincoln and Bellamy are finally eating their now-cold panther meat, Nyko is off to the side, tidying things. When the door opens, they all look up at her. She smiles shyly and leans against the far wall. Bellamy comes over to her, “I was wondering where you went” he ghosts his hand down her arm. She shrugs a little, she hadn’t thought he’d notice, “Sorry, I just went to change” he nods a little, blows out a long breath. 

“Thank You, for…” he trails off, pointing back toward Octavia. She shakes her head a little, but he puts his hand over her elbow and whispers “thank you” again so she just nods. It’s quiet for a moment before he takes a step back and pulls his hand back away from her skin, “Come eat with us” he says, his voice loud enough that Lincoln and Octavia can hear now too. 

“I don’t want to intrude” she says, folding into herself a little, she’s not a part of that group, that family, not in a way that matters. But when Octavia rolls her eyes and says ‘Get over here’ she breaths out a laugh and wonders if that’s still true. Bellamy walks behind her, his hand on her back and sits next to her, balancing the plate on his leg and nudging it towards her when she doesn’t immediately take a piece. It’s not hard to fold into their conversation – not like she thought it’d be, and they stay like that long after they’ve eaten and set their plates aside. 

When Octavia gets tired and lays back down, falling asleep before she’s said good night, Clarke pulls Bellamy aside and tells him that he should go change clothes and wash up. He’s still got some blood on him from when he’d carried Octavia and he looks down at that before he looks back at Octavia and then to Clarke. He opens his mouth to speak so she hurries to beat him to it “I’ll stay and come get you if anything happens. You’ll barley be gone twenty minutes” she says and he barks out a surprised laugh. 

“You’ve got me all figured out, huh Princess?” he says and she smiles, wishes that was true. He puts his hand on her shoulder and leans toward her for a second. For a moment, just a half second, she thinks he is going to kiss her. But, instead he pushes back, nods, and says he’ll be right back and she has to force herself to breath as he walks out of the cabin. 

She turns to Lincoln who is pulling a blanket over Octavia, “You should go clean up too” she says and even though she knows he couldn’t have heard her conversation with Bellamy he nods, like he was expecting that. 

“I’ll be right back” he says and kisses the top of Octavia’s head. She doesn’t know if he’s telling her or Octavia, but she nods all the same. 

It leaves her and Nyko and she tells him that she doesn’t think she can convince either of the boys not to sleep in the Clinic tonight, so he should go home and get some rest. He smiles when he nods, like he figured that would be the case, and tell her again that she did good here – that he’s proud of her, before he goes. 

Bellamy gets back first and when he does Clarke is sitting on a table, pushed against the wall, her legs stretched out in front of her and Bellamy comes to sit next to her. “She could have -” he cuts himself off, like saying out loud would be a jinx or something and Clarke looks over at him sharply. He leans his forehead on her shoulder and she feels him blow out a long breath against her skin. 

“She’s going to be fine, Bell” she whispers and he nods a little, even though she can feel his skin vibrating, like he’s just now really allowing himself to feel the worry. She tries not to over think it as she pulls him down, he gives her a quizzical glance, but lets himself be led until he’s lying on the table with his head in her lap. She pulls her hand through his hair and it reminders her sharply of the day he’d gotten back from Azgeda and she’d woken up with her head in his lap. She traces shapes against his skull and plays with the ends of his hair, occasionally running her fingers along his back – hoping it calms him the way it did her. When Lincoln comes back in, he glances over at them, but doesn’t say anything just sits next to Octavia quietly. 

It’s Octavia who wakes up first the next morning, but Clarke follows soon after. She notices Octavia’s eyes on her and eases Bellamy’s head onto a bunched up blanket next to her and slips off the table, rubbing at the back of her neck and she makes her way over to Octavia quietly. “What’s up there?” Octavia asks, jutting her chin towards Bellamy and Clarke helps her sit and grabs a glass of water. 

“Nothing” Clarke says a little defensively as Octavia takes the glass and sips. Octavia laughs and Clarke bites her bottom lip. She doesn’t say anything, but she looks like she knows something that Clarke doesn’t and she wishes it didn’t bother her. 


	9. …The More They Stay The Same.

The Arrangement. Chapter Nine: …The More They Stay The Same. 

It’s night and Clarke is sitting at the table in the kitchen of the cabin, sketching the tree she can see through the window while Bellamy tends to the fire. It’s cold, far below freezing, and they can’t deny that they are deep into winter now. They’d been able to get two larger cabins built in Arkadia, and it’ll have to be enough – Bellamy tells her that can’t build with the ground frozen and it will be as such for months. Bellamy sits down next to her, glancing at her sketch book with interest – she understands, she hasn’t done much sketching since she’s been here. She’s about to say something to that effect when something catches her eye outside. 

She’s out of her seat and outside before Bellamy understands what she saw and when he realizes he pulls a coat on and grabs a fur from the bed to follow her outside. She’s standing next to the porch, just outside the reach of the roof’s overhang and staring straight up. He leans against a post on the porch and watches her quietly until a snowflake hits her cheek and she flinches a little and he barks out an amused laugh. 

She startles, not having known he followed her out and smiles when she turns around to face him. “I forgot you’ve never seen it” he gestures to the snow falling around them and walks off the porch, towards her. 

“It’s beautiful” she says quietly, smiling when he tugs the fur he brought with him around her shoulders. 

“Yeah, it is” he mumbles, watching her. After a beat he shakes his head a little, “I’ll be right back” he says even though she isn’t paying him any attention, too entranced by the snowfall around her. When he comes back out, she’s right where he left her, still staring at the sky and he smiles a little, setting the mugs he is carrying on the small table by the porch swing and tossing the extra furs he brought out on the swing itself. He walks down to where she is slowly, just watching her, until he reaches her and she turns and smiles brightly at him. He reaches out and grabs her wrist, giving it a light tug, “Come on” he says. She gives him a quizzical look but follows. 

He leads her back to the porch swing and they sit. He drapes the furs over them and hands Clarke a mug of the tea he brought out. He’s not sure how long they’ve been out there, just watching the snow coat his village, but eventually her head starts to fall onto his shoulder. He turns his head so he can see her and her eyes are mostly closed, lips parted and he smiles a little, his chin pressing lightly against the crown of her head before he whispers her name. She blinks sleepily at him and is pliable and compliant as he pulls her to her feet and leads her inside. She climbs into bed, falling asleep quickly. Bellamy prods the fire a little, making sure it stays burning, before sliding in next to her. 

When they wake up in the morning, there is still snow blowing around in the air and everything is coated in a thick layer of white. Except for the trails left by a few early risers, it’s an even blanket of snow as far as Clarke can see. She finds herself wondering what the reaction to it is like in Arkadia, an entire people experiencing something new together. Part of her wishes that she was there, experiencing this with them, but Bellamy comes up behind her, his hand on her back, while she leans on the post on the porch and she doesn’t know now to say that without it sounding like a rejection, without it sounding like she wishes she was there because she doesn’t want to be here. That may have been true at one point, but she’s not so sure it is anymore, but she knows how it’d sound, so she says “It’s so peaceful, so quiet” instead and Bellamy gives her a smile. He’s about to answer her when two kids run by, one shrieking when the other throws a snowball and it lands on his neck. 

Bellamy smirks, “Yeah – peaceful” he says sarcastically as he turns to go back inside. Clarke follows him and they have breakfast at the table in the kitchen. They talk about the snow and they make a plan to visit Arkadia in a few days, once some of the snow has melted away. They’d prepared Arkadia for the snow the best they could, they just had to trust now that they were listened to. Bellamy leaves first, for meetings with Anya, so once he’s gone Clarke cleans up the kitchen and pulls on a coat before walking outside. She skims her hand across the railing on the porch, gathering up the snow there and holding it for a moment before dropping it with a smile. 

There are six people in the clinic when she walks in. It’s mostly people she’d noticed coughing into their arms for the past few days, but they look downright awful now. It’s the most people she’s ever seen in the Clinic at once. Nyko had warned her that when the flu hit, it would be fast, but she’s not sure she understood. She hangs her coat by the door and finds Nyko talking to a patient. He smiles when he sees her, actually looks relieved, and Clarke smiles back. She finds a stack of dirty pots that she knows he uses for boiled water and grabs them, taking them over to be washed and refilled. 

As she works throughout the day, she notices Nyko coughing with increasing frequency. At one point, she even thinks she sees him stumble over his own feet and have to catch himself on an empty bed. When she asks him about it, he says he’s just tired – that he feels fine. She doesn’t push it, but she tries to keep an eye on him a little as she moves around the clinic. 

She doesn’t leave the clinic until that night, to get dinner and go back, and when she does, she finds Bellamy entertaining three little kids with stories while they eat. The youngest one, a little girl who looks to be about three, is sitting in Bellamy’s lap and calling him ‘Belme’ around a mouthful of mashed potatoes. When Bellamy sees her, he double-takes and she can see the skin on the back of his neck redden. She laughs a little, leaning against a post to keep watching – finding herself listening to the story he’s telling about the stars. 

After a few minutes, a woman comes by and collects the kids, eyeing Clarke suspiciously as she does. Clarke gives a tight smile in return, trying not to let it bother her. Bellamy stands, brushing dirt off his pants, and smiles sheepishly at her, “Their parents are all in the clinic, so I was just…” he says and she nods. 

“That was nice of you” she says and he just shrugs a little. He’s already eaten, but he walks with her through the food line and sits next to her at a fire while she eats. She’s just finishing up when they hear a commotion around the clinic. They run towards it and when they get there they find Nyko doubled over in a coughing fit, his face buried in his elbow. He locks eyes with Clarke and she pushes through the crowd to get to him, putting her hand on his back. 

A few of the Trikru step forward, trying to stop her, sure that she can’t help Nyko. One whispers that Clarke probably poisoned him. Nyko tries to argue, but can’t quite seem to catch his breath. Bellamy yells “Stop” as he moves to stand in front of her – between her and the crowd, and it’s like someone pressed pause, everyone stops, all going quiet at once. It’s easy for Clarke to forget Bellamy’s position within the Trikru village – she hadn’t lived here long or had much reason to witness the high rank he holds or respect he commands. But he stands in front of her and tells his people to back away, to give her and Nyko some space, to get used to her being in the Clinic, to understand that she is going to be treating people and that’s just how it’s going to be. It’s not so much what he says though, as how he says it. He’s quiet and even and matter-of-fact about things, like he just expects that his words will be heard and respected. Clarke looks around the gathering of people, at the way the shake their heads resignedly and understands that he expects that because the people must listen to him. 

He sticks around the Clinic for a while after, to make sure that people are good to her. He helps her get Nyko into a bed and watches when she mixes medicine and hands it to a young man who has been in the Clinic for a day or so. The man’s eyes flick between the medicine, Clarke, and Bellamy a few times before he grimaces and drinks the concoction – silent but sullen about it. Once everyone is settled, Clarke grabs Bellamy’s wrist and pulls him outside, behind the Clinic. 

“I’m sorry” he says and she drops his wrist and turns to face him, the backdoor to the Clinic swinging shut behind them. “I know that you wanted people to come around on their own, and you didn’t want me to do…that” he swallows, “I just – it had to be done” he says and she laughs. He cocks an eyebrow at her. 

“I wanted to say thank you” she says, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, I wanted people to come around, but I was starting to doubt that was ever going to happen” she shakes her head a little. “So, thank you”. He smiles, rubbing at the back of his neck a little. 

She pulls in a deep breath, “I think we’re going to have to quarantine” she says and he nods like he was expecting that. “I don’t really know what it is, but it seems like it’s pretty contagious.” 

“You have to be careful” he says quietly, shifting a half-step closer to her. He knows what her job is, knows that locking herself in with a bunch of sick people is how she helps, but the danger there is not lost on him. She nods, but he’s not sure she’s thought it through, “Really careful, Clarke” he says and waits for her to look up at him and nod again. “I’ll come by in the morning with breakfast” he says. They’ll come up with a system – he can leave it outside and back up before she comes out to get it or something, but he’ll need updates on how everyone is doing inside and delivering meals is as good a way to make sure he gets them as any. 

“Thanks, Bellamy” she whispers and they hold eye contact for a long moment before she pushed up on to her tip-toes and kissing his cheek quickly. It’s a little off center, the kiss, and she send up catching the very corner of his lips. When she settles back down on the flats of her feel she shakes her head a little, like she’s not sure what just happened, then turns and walks back in the Clinic. Bellamy stares at the closed door for a moment before he turns and walks towards home. 


	10. Worst Nightmare

The Arrangement. Chapter Ten: Worst Nightmare. 

She hasn’t left the clinic in six days, she’s exhausted and she can feel a layer of grime and dirt coating her skin. The first person died from the sickness this morning and Clarke knows that’s her fault. He was young, seven, and his parents didn’t bring him in until it was too late for him to be helped, and the only reason that they would do that is because the people know Clarke is the one running the clinic for now. Nyko is back on his feet, but only barley, taking long breaks as needed and only able to help with basic things as he still loses focus easily (he joked to Clarke on the first day he was up-and-around that it was like they traded places – him fetching things for her now, and she’d laughed). Lincoln had come to help too – had been with her since that first day, it was hard for him, she knew, being away from Octavia but she was grateful for their help. He mostly followed her lead and made sure that the sick didn’t try to leave. 

There’s a quick double knock on the door and she swallows before she knocks back and then counts to twenty in her head. It’s the first time in six days she’s had to force herself to push the door open. She picks up the waiting tray, food for the people inside, and hands up off to Lincoln, who exchanges a glance with Bellamy over her head before he turns inside to start distributing food. Bellamy looks awful, red rings around his eyes that weren’t there this time yesterday, but when she says so he shrugs, “Just tired” he shouts back (he’s about thirty feet away to maintain the quarantine, even though she’s not sure it’s effective – she doesn’t have enough experience with this to be sure of anything). She nods, there are a lot of people sick inside and a lot of people in the neighboring tent who have been exposed and are waiting to see if they’ll turn symptomatic, and while they focus on getting better, the healthy do their jobs. It’s hard on everyone right now. 

“We, uh…” she trails off, glancing around. They always gather a bit of an audience for this – she thinks it’s a mix of people’s general interest in her and their relationship and these meal deliveries being the only real updates they can get about what is going on inside the clinic. She pulls in a deep breath to steady herself and forces herself to say it fast, “We lost Aatto this morning” she says, eyes on the ground in between her and Bellamy. A shockwave of voices and gasps radiates around her and she squeezes her eyes shut before slowly opening them and raising her head to look at Bellamy. He takes a half step towards her, arm raised, and she takes a half step back. He freezes and their eyes lock - he looks sad and worried and she whispers an “I’m sorry” that she knows he can’t hear before rushing back inside. Lincoln and Octavia do the evening food drop, so she knows she won’t see Bellamy again until this time tomorrow. 

Nyko and Lincoln both tell her that what happened wasn’t her fault, but she still feels herself pulling back from hands-on care at the clinic. It’s a little easier, now that Lincoln and Nyko are both helping and the rate at which people are catching whatever this is has slowed significantly. Nyko had insisted on being the one to tell Aatto’s parents that the boy was gone, and Clarke had stood quietly behind him, she didn’t even move when his mother lunged for her, though Nyko held the woman in place. Clarke thinks she’d feel better if the woman had been let to hit her. 

She goes through her day carefully, not interacting with anyone more than she needs to, even though Nyko and Lincoln spend much of their days trying to coax her out of her withdrawn state. When someone bangs frantically on the side door to the clinic, Clarke is the only one of them not with a patient, so she puts down the bandage she’s cleaning and goes to answer it. As soon as the door is open, a little girl, maybe ten years old, is thrust into Clarke’s arms. She’s coughing up blood, eyes hardly open, shaking and her parents stand in the doorway shouting in a language she’s too exhausted to remember the translations for. Lincoln rushes to them, comforting them and leading them to the temporary tent next door. The tent is mostly maintained by people who had the sickness and have recovered, Clarke and Lincoln had told them what to look for and they were lucky in that Ivar, a quiet but commanding presence around Clarke’s age, had taken to the idea right away and was able to garner excitement for their ability to help instead of resentment that they weren’t able to go home. 

She spends all day with the little girl, trying to get her fever down and her symptoms under control. The girl, Tinley, falls asleep after drinking a tea that helps with the pain. And, though she doesn’t mean to, Clarke falls asleep in a chair near her bed. She sleeps for three and a half hours (the longest stretch of sleep she’s gotten in the six days she’s been in the clinic) before she’s woken up by knocking on the front door. It’s Octavia delivering their evening meals and Clarke sits up as Lincoln knocks back and waits until Octavia has backed up to open the door. She watches the way he waits in quiet excited anticipation and smiles a little, despite herself. 

Tinley is still sleeping, so she makes the rounds, checking on everyone as Lincoln steps outside to shout to Octavia. Nyko is half asleep in a chair near a woman who is past the worst part of the sickness, coughing lightly now. Once she’s checked in on everyone she leans against the back wall and sighs softly, closing her eyes. She’s exhausted and riddled with guilt and almost afraid to have too much hands-on-care with another patient, for fear she won’t be able to save them and she’d be overcome with the emotions if she had any time to be. She feels tears well behind her eyelids and wills herself not to let them fall. She straightens herself and lets outs a deep breath before her eyes drop open and she glances around to make sure she wasn’t noticed. 

She doesn’t have a great concept of time in the clinic, so she doesn’t notice that Bellamy is late in the morning until the sun hits her face through the window. She asks Nyko and Lincoln to make sure one of them didn’t talk to Bellamy, but they’re both surprised he’s late too, but they all just figure that he’d had to take care of something and would be by when he could. She’s annoyed, not for the first time, by her inability to leave the clinic. 

Later, when she’s crushing berries and flowers for a new pot of tea, the side door to the clinic bursts open and reveals Octavia, Bellamy leaning heavily against her – eyes bloodshot, face pale, body shaking. Lincoln takes his weight from Octavia and helps him into a waiting bed before rushing Octavia back out. Clarke runs over to him, hands on his face then his arms. It’s her nightmare that he’d get sick and end up in the quarantine – so of course he’s here now. 

He's completely out of it, blood drying on his cheek from where he’d been coughing and a thin layer of sweat coating his body. His whole body shakes with the force of his coughs, and he curls in on himself a little. Clarke pulls his hair away from his face and waits for his hazy eyes to find hers. He mumbles something that she thinks it might be her name and reaches for her but she catches his hand and lays it back down. “It’s okay. You’re okay” she whispers, a frantic energy brewing under her skin that she tries to hide. 

Lincoln comes up behind her and she pulls in a deep breath before she turns to look at him, “I don’t…I can’t…” she shakes her head. Its like she’s forgotten everything about how to manage this sickness, even though it’s all she’s been doing for the past week. Lincoln hands her a cup of the tea that will help with fever and when she takes it her hands are shaking, “Maybe you should…” she tries to hand it back, but he pushes it toward her and tells her she’s okay, even if she doesn’t feel it and she closes her eyes for a moment before lacing her fingers through the short hair at the back of Bellamy’s neck and helping him rise enough to drink a little. 

She doesn’t have the luxury of spending all her time with Bellamy – there is too much that needs done and too many other people relying on her Nyko and Lincoln, but she finds herself sitting on the floor by his bed at every available opportunity. He’s deep into the fever and delirious most of the time. He wakes up at one point to mumble “Do you know where my mom is? Are her and O alright?” in a slur and she puts her hand on his cheek and tells him they couldn’t be here and he’d leaned into her touch and asked if O was alright and when she said ‘yes’ he’d gone back to sleep. 

His body is warm, but he shivers violently. He coughs and blood seeps past his lips. It’s the first time since Clarke has known him that he hasn’t looked one hundred percent in control. Late that night, she falls asleep sitting on the floor by his bed, her legs tucked under herself and her head pillowed on her arms, next to his hip. She wakes up to his hand in her hair, not moving, just resting there and she smiles softly before she sits up. 

Later that day, after Tinley’s fever breaks and Clarke is handing her a cup of broth, when Bellamy starts seizing. A few of the other patients have done it too, and there isn’t much they can do except try to keep them from hurting themselves. But, it is terrifying. He thrashes in the bed for thirty seconds that feel like hours and when he’s done he lays so still that it’s almost just as scary. Clarke pulls her fingers under her eyes, gathering tears and glancing over at Lincoln, before she goes to sit with Bellamy. 

Clarke, Lincoln, and Nyko talk and decide that since the intake of patients has slowed considerably and they only have a few patients left in the Clinic, that they’ll end the quarantine. The people in the tent let out excited whoops when they’re told and Clarke smiles, despite herself. Nyko goes first, he’s gotten a fair amount of sleep so he goes home to bathe and change clothes while Clarke and Lincoln scrub the Clinic. Nyko comes back out and Lincoln goes home. Clarke stays to help Nyko with the patients that are left and to stay with Bellamy. 

When night falls, Clarke sends Nyko home. It’s silly for the both to stay, she reasons, and she’s can’t leave with Bellamy still so sick. Nyko makes sure she knows she can change her mind before he goes to his home. The night is mostly quiet, Bellamy only wakes up once, delirious again, and doesn’t recognize Clarke. He pushes himself up a little and when Clarke tries to hand him a glass of water his eyebrows furrow together, “Who are you?” he asks quiet, but wary, pushing the glass away. 

“Bellamy” she breaths out his name, her voice cracking around it before she pulls in a sharp breath, not sure what to say. Her husband doesn’t know who she is and she tries not to let that sting. She remembers being worried she’d forget his name on their wedding day, but she can’t find the humor in it now like she could then. “I’m Clarke…I’m…I’m helping Nyko” is what she settles on, and it must appease him at least a little, because despite the way he eyes her like she doesn’t belong, he does fall back asleep soon after. She spends most of the rest of the night letting Tinley teach her a game with cards that she found behind the desk, checking on Bellamy between rounds. 

Bellamy’s fever doesn’t break until midday the next day. She notices when she walks by his bed and he’s kicked most of the blankets off. Octavia is sitting next to him and lets out a relieved breath when Clarke tells her that the fever broke. He wakes up a while later and he’s not better, and he stills look awful, but it is the first time in a few days that Clarke is sure he’s going to be okay. He doesn’t stay awake long, just long enough to talk to Octavia for a few minutes and drink some of the tea she hands him. He doesn’t remember much about the last few days, and she doesn’t mention anything. 

The next time he wakes up, Clarke is talking to Nyko and Bellamy pushes himself into a sitting position before she notices that he’s awake. “Hey” she says, walking over to him. 

“Hi” his voice breaks around the word, raspy from disuse. He reaches out and takes her hand, pulling her to sit next to him. “When’s the last time you’ve been home? Gotten some real sleep?” he asks, quiet and low. 

She just shrugs but then Nyko’s voice rings from the other side of the Clinic, “Too long. Take her home”. 

Bellamy’s laugh turns into a cough and Clarke rolls her eyes. “He’s still sick” Clarke protests. If he were anyone else, there wouldn’t even be talk of releasing him so soon. 

“Well then it’s a good thing he lives with a healer, it’s it?” Nyko says, his voice light and sarcastic. Bellamy is smirking when she looks back at him and she rolls her eyes before she nods. She turns towards Nyko as she stands, but as she does she gets dizzy and it throws her off balance and Bellamy’s hand on her wrist pulls her back down to sit on the bed before she falls over and she presses her hand to her head. She doesn’t think she’s sick, she thinks she’d know. But Bellamy’s hand tightens on her wrist and when she glances over at him to tell him that she’s fine he looks worried, so she lets Nyko check her over. “I think you’re just tired” Nyko says, low and fond. 

They lean into each other when they walk home. Bellamy is still feeling the affects of the sickness and Clarke is exhausted. When they get to the cabin, they fill a bath and Clarke goes first feeling clean for the first time in more than a week while Bellamy heats some soup. They trade after a few minutes, Clarke coming out in long pants and a t-shirt water still clinging to her skin, while Bellamy slips into the bathroom. 

When Bellamy comes out of the bathroom, Clarke is sitting at the table, her feet stretched out to rest on the chair across from her, her head tilted back uncomfortably, and her lips parted a little in sleep. He nudges Clarke awake softly and when she blinks at him he smiles softly, “You should eat a little” he mummers quietly, setting a bowl down in front of her. She nods a little as she takes it, stirring it kind of idly and Bellamy sits next to her, leaning forward to cough a little as he situates. 

They eat quietly, Clarke eyeing Bellamy when he coughs or shivers. She stands after a minutes, takes their bowls and sets them aside before she reaches out her hand and leads him to bed when he takes it. They sit on the bed, Bellamy leaning back against the wall while Clarke has her feet on the floor. He’s tired and still a little sick and more easily affectionate than usual. He thinks that’s the excuse he’d use if asked later what made him reach out and touch Clarke’s still wet hair. 

It’s a tangled mess, she probably hasn’t brushed it since before the sickness outbreak and she gives a self-conscious smile even as she leans into his touch a little. Bellamy uses a hand on her back and a soft “come ‘ere” to get her to sit in front of him, and she lets herself be led, sleepy and a little slow. He puts his hands in her hair and starts untangling it, tugging lightly on locks of hair so they won’t pull at her scalp. She leans her head back a little, her head lulling to the side in time with his movements. “I’d never seen blonde hair before you” he mummers and she hums lightly in response. Once her hair is free of tangles, he braids it and ties the end around itself to keep it in place and when Clarke glances back at him she’s smiling sleepily. “Go to sleep” he half whispers and she nods and lays back while he pulls the blankets up and lays down next to her. 

He’s never touched her when they were lying in bed – it always felt like a line he shouldn’t cross, but when she reaches out and wraps her fingers around his wrist, already mostly asleep, he pulls her hand into his and laces his fingers with hers. He falls asleep facing her, their hands linked and lying on the bed between them. 


	11. New Discoveries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: _Italicized_ dialogue is being spoken in Trigedasleng.

The Arrangement. Chapter Eleven: New Discoveries. 

Neither of them wakes up again until the early afternoon when Octavia raps her knuckles against the front door mere seconds before pushing it open, not bothering to wait for an answer. “How’s everyone feel-” she cuts her self off, seeing them. They’re both fully clothed, and barley touching, just their fingers mingling together in-between them, but Octavia loves her dramatics. They start to sit, putting distance between themselves and rubbing their eyes. “I can come back” Octavia’s voice is half teasing and half curious. 

“Don’t be dramatic, O” Bellamy says, standing up a little wobbly and coughing, “we were sleeping, that’s all” he says, putting his hand on the wall to balance himself. He’s getting his color back a little, but he’s still not really better. He locks eyes with Clarke for a second and she smiles a little, to let him know she’s okay and Bellamy nods, almost imperceptible, before turning towards Octavia and cocking an eyebrow, “What’s up” 

“Just checking in” she answers, almost sounding board now, the novelty of finding them in bed wearing off with the realization that it was just to sleep. “Thought you might want to get some air”. Bellamy nods and tells her to wait a second before disappearing into the bathroom with a change of clothes. It’s a little awkward, Octavia leans back against the table “How are you feeling?” she asks Clarke. “You’re invited, by the way” she adds, almost like an afterthought – not rude, just not having considered that she should extend the invitation. 

Clarke shakes her head a little, “That’s okay, I think I just want to rest” Octavia nods a little, “And I’m okay, thanks, just tired”. Octavia nods again and tells her that Lincoln slept for nineteen straight hours when he came back from the clinic. Bellamy comes out of the bathroom and Clarkes smiles at the siblings as they go. 

Clarke grabs their dishes from the night before off the counter and washes them quietly, before gathering her and Bellamy’s clothes from the night before and takes them outside to wash them in a bucket and hang them on the clothes line. She catches sight of Bellamy and Octavia, walking slowly around a pin with a few livestock milling around inside. She watches them for a moment, watches how at ease they are with each other and can’t help the little flare of jealously in her stomach. 

She goes back inside and grabs her sketch book from the closet and sits at the table. She’s flipping to an empty page when a drawing of her father catches her eye and she pauses. She wonders what he’d think of her now – what he’d think of who she is now. She wonders what he’d think of Bellamy – thinks kind of idly that her father would like him and wonders how that should make her feel. She knows that her feelings for Bellamy have altered with the changes in their relationship. She started out nervous and wary of him and now counts him as someone she can trust. She acknowledges that she has moments of believing that she could have feelings for him, could be falling in love with him, even. But, she can’t do that, and she almost wants to laugh – the irony of her developing feelings for her husband being a dangerous thing being almost funny. She’s almost certain he doesn’t feel the same way, and even in the off chance that he did, if they tried something and it didn’t work out, they’d be stuck and in a lot of trouble. The alliance between the Trikru and the Skikru was already tenuous and even if divorce was an option among the Trikru (which it isn’t) it wouldn’t be an option for them. If they tried something and it failed, the consequences would be disastrous. 

She hears coughing outside and focuses for a moment, hearing voices right after and realizes that Bellamy and Octavia have settled on the porch for the time being. They’re talking in Trigedasleng but while Clarke can hear the sound of their voices, she can’t make out the words. She thinks about going outside and sitting with them, she thinks she would be welcome, but between Octavia getting hurt and Bellamy getting sick she knows they’ve had a lot going on recently and could use the time together. 

When she starts drawing, she only realizes that it’s Aatto, the young boy who’d died in the Clinic, when she’s almost halfway through. 

\---------------------------------------------- 

Octavia has just told Bellamy what Lincoln told her about Clarke in their time in the Clinic’s quarantine. How she’s hardly slept or eaten and how intently she’d blamed herself for Aatto’s death and Bellamy sighs softly. Clarke hasn’t brought up Aatto’s death since the end of the quarantine and Bellamy isn’t sure how to start the conversation, but he does want her to know that it’s not her fault. He tells Octavia that as they settle into the porch swing in from of Bellamy’s home and quiet settles over them – Octavia not knowing what to say to that. 

When Bellamy coughs, heavy and loud, Octavia smacks his back dramatically and Bellamy shoves her lightly. Octavia laughs while Bellamy tries to scowl at her, but just ends up coughing again. _“Ok, question”_ Octavia says, sitting up straighter while Bellamy cocks an eyebrow at her. _“Are we not going to talk about this morning?”_ she asks, unaffected by his ensuing eye-roll. 

_“Yeah, we should talk about you just barging in_ ” Bellamy says, about equal parts wanting to annoy her and wanting to buy himself a little time. He knows what she wants to talk about and he hasn’t worked through it himself, let alone readied himself to talk about it. Octavia rolls her eyes and pushes Bellamy’s side with her forearm. _“I don’t know what your talking about, O”_ he says, hoping she’ll drop it. 

She lets out an exasperated breath, _“You guys looked…comfortable”_ she says. 

_“We were sleeping, O. It was nothing”_ he says. He knows it wasn’t nothing, that in all their time sharing a bed it was the first time he’d touched her in it, but he’s not about to hand Octavia fodder for her inquisition. 

_“So, you don’t have any kind of feelings for her”_ ’ she asks and Bellamy starts to answer she cuts him off, _“Romantic feelings”_ She corrects, realizing that he’s going to try to loophole his way out of answering the intended question. She smirks when he rolls his eyes, knowing she was right. 

He’s almost positive he does have feelings for her. But he’s absolutely positive that nothing will ever happen between them. From Clarke’s perspective, she was ripped from her family and her people to live with a people who haven’t been very good to her. She’s basically a prisoner, and he can’t imagine her ever developing feelings for him, of all people. He’s often surprised that they devolved a friendship even, and he’d never jeopardize that. Even if they both wanted to try something, if it ever soured they would still be stuck together – peace between their people on the line. _“I can’t, O”_ he says quietly, instead of everything else on his mind. 

_“Bell”_ his sister whispers, pressing her shoulder against his. Bellamy shakes his head a little and they’re quiet until Octavia says mildly, “You could” and Bellamy thinks she’s going to leave it at that until she pulls in a long breath, _“She’s not mom…and you’re not…”_ she trails off and shakes her head a little at the pained look that crosses over his features. _“You could”_ she repeats, adamant, before they lapse into comfortable silence. 

\-------------------------------------- 

A while later, Bellamy toes the front door open to find Clarke still at the table, adding detail to a drawing she’s working on. She glances up when the door opens, long enough to make eye contact with him and smile softly, before putting her sketch book, face down, on the table. “How is Octavia?” Clarke asks quietly as Bellamy sets the plate he’s been carrying down in front of her. 

“Good, she’s good” he says, sitting next to her. He’s brought her a sandwich and some fruit from the main kitchen, and though he craves something other than soup, it still hurts him to swallow, so he has a bowl of mostly broth in front of himself. “I thought you might be sick of soup” he says, nudging the plate towards her. 

“Thanks” she says, dunking her head and smiling a little. She picks at her food a little absently, chewing on the corner of a piece of bread for longer than is strictly necessary. 

Bellamy touches the side of her sketch book and looks over at her, “May I?” he askes quietly and Clarke waivers for a moment while he watches her carefully. 

“Sure” she half whispers and he waits a beat before he flips it over. She’d drawn Aatto as she imagined he’d been in life - running outside with a grin, instead of how she’d known him – dying. Bellamy smiles sadly at the drawing before his eyes flick back to her. 

“It’s really beautiful” he mummers quietly. She dunks her head, shaking it a little like she’s going to argue. “What happened to Aatto wasn’t your fault, Clarke” Bellamy says, the words rushed and spilling out of his mouth. He knows he might never get another chance to talk to her this and worries about her spending the rest of her life thinking she is responsible for that little boy’s death. She hasn’t looked up at him yet, so he keeps talking, “You have no idea what kind of difference it might have made if his parents brought him in sooner – it might not have changed anything.” He swallows, “And his parents not bring him in, that’s not on you either” she scoffs a little and he reaches out to cover her hand with his on the table, the contact causing her to looks up, her watery eyes meeting his. “Clarke…you saved so many people here. And you did everything you could for Aatto” he says, voice raspy, just above a whisper. 

She doesn’t say anything, just nods a little, but Bellamy can see that she’s on the verge of letting the tears gathered in her eyes fall and he knows how much she’d hate that. So, even though he wants to keep going, to try to make her understand that what happened wasn’t her fault the only way he knows how, with his words, he swallows the impulse, squeezes her hand softly and leans back against his chair. She picks at her food a little but doesn’t really eat even though he’s sure she’s got to be hungry. When they’ve eaten all they plan to, Clarke wraps and stores her leftovers, washes her hands and sits down on the bed, close to the wall. 

Bellamy tends to the fire, breathing new life into it in hopes it will stay lit through the night. He sits on the bed next to Clarke, on the outside so he can tend to the fire at night if it’s necessary. They both scoot down to lay in bed, Bellamy on his back one hand under his head and the other resting on the bed by his hip, Clarke on her side facing Bellamy hands tucked under her face. They lay in relative silence for a long while, the crackling of the fire and their breathing the only sounds between them. Clarke is sure that Bellamy is asleep, but every time she closes her eyes she sees Aatto dying or Bellamy sick or something else horrifying, and she just wants to feel as safe and protected as she did the night before. So, she snakes her hand from under her chin and rests it over Bellamy’s on the bed, thinking that the contact might help ground her. His sharp intake of breath tells her that he is still awake. 

“Clarke,” his voice comes out deep and strangled and Clarke squeezes his hand softly in surprise and feels the way he tenses. 

She knows this is hard for him, even if she doesn’t understand it, and she knows she should pull her hand back and try to fall asleep on her own, but she doesn’t want to and even though she feels incredibly selfish doing it, she leans up on her elbow and whispers, “Please, Bellamy” and closes her eyes at the pained look that crosses his face, opening them when the back of his fingers brush lightly against her cheek. He nods a little when she opens her eyes, even though he doesn’t look sure. She tucks herself between his arm and his body, her head on his chest (she can hear his heart beat, fast and hard against her cheek and it helps). She tucks one of her hands under her chin and the other lands near his hip while he slowly folds his arms around her. 

“Go to sleep, Clarke, I’ve got you” he whispers against her hair and she wants to thank him, but she slips into sleep before she can figure out how. 

She wakes up to the sound of wind blowing heavy and sharp around the cabin, causing the whole thing to rattle a little around them, and the feeling of Bellamy’s hand pulling through her hair in a pleasant repetitive motion. His other hand is resting over her elbow and she can feel his fingers flex against her skin every so often. Her hand under her chin is tangled in his shirt and her other hand is resting on his opposite hip. “What time is it?” she mumbles, still sleepy, burrowing a little closer to him. 

His hand freezes in her hair and his body tenses under her for a moment. After a moment his voice comes back slow and sleepy, “It’s the middle of the night, Clarke, go back to sleep”. She hums a little, says something that he thinks might be ‘but your awake’ and shivers when the wind slams against the window over her shoulder. He closes his eye, focuses on relaxing, and lets his hand move through her hair again. It’s snowing outside, the wind whipping around camp loud enough to keep him awake, but it’s warm in the cabin. He’d been hoping Clarke would be able to fade back into sleep, but with each howl of wind she flinches a little, and he’s pretty sure she’s waking up. 

She’s tracing shapes against his hip bone idly and he pulls in a deep breath. He’s not sure what makes him speak, but he does. “Do you remember when I told you that that the last arranged marriage was when I was very young?” he asks, his voice raspy and very quiet. Her hand freezes and she nods a little against his chest and he finds himself glad that she doesn’t look up at him. “My parents married young, they were…very in love. The war broke out when I was only two and lasted until I was six. Both my parents fought, but my father died in battle months before the fighting ended and my mother was never the same. I hardly knew my father, and I don’t remember much about him” He keeps one hand moving through Clarke’s hair, but she reaches out and tentatively takes his other hand, tucking it under her chin with hers, running her thumb over his knuckles. 

“The Commander at the time chose eleven women from our Clan to marry, one each into each of the Allied Clans, to fold us into the Alliance. Since my mother had fought, she was chosen and we were sent to Azgeda. The man that my mother married was not…” he trails off and feels Clarke’s hand tighten around his and he closes his eyes. He’s never told this story to anyone before and he’s not entirely sure what’s making him tell it now. But he wants her to know, to understand him better, and he can’t turn back now. “He didn’t treat her well, and she’s wasn’t let to leave his home often, except when he would…he let other men…” he trails off, but from Clarke’s sharp intake of breath he knows she understands what he’s been trying to say. “I didn’t really understand, I was too young and she was good as shielding me, but when she got pregnant, she wasn’t completely sure who the father was”. He pulls in a long breath, “Having O made her paranoid, she tried to hide her thinking that someone would take her away. She really distanced herself from O, so for a long time I was really all she knew.” 

He’s quiet for a minute, long enough for Clarke to wonder if he’s done talking for the night. She runs her thumb back and forth over his knuckles lightly while his fingers play in her hair and she feels the deep breath he pulls in before he starts talking again, “He killed my mom when O was four…It wasn’t…I don’t think he meant to, but…”. Clarke can’t help but tilt her head up and look at him, he’s facing straight towards the ceiling, but his eyes are closed even though she can see that they’re moving behind his eyelids. She breaths out his name and pushes herself towards him just enough to press her lips to the underside of his jaw, just hoping to remind him that’s not alone – to help ground him a little. The only reaction is him fisting his hand in her hair for a brief moment before he blows out a long breath. 

“I knew we weren’t safe after that, so I waited and a few nights and I took Octavia and we ran.” He continues a moment later. “We ended up with the Trikru out of happenstance, but they took us in. I was too young to explain what happened, I didn’t even understand it then, but they knew the Azgeda were more brutal than most and took us in. It helped that no one came looking to claim us – no one came looking at all, not until years later and by then we were adults and they only came looking because we’d gotten status among the Trikru and with the new Commander and they wanted a piece of that” 

She scoots over a little so she’s more next to Bellamy than on top of him and runs her hand along his arm. After a few minutes have passed in silence she swallows heavily, “That’s why Lexa picked you” Bellamy blinks a few times, “Because she knew you’d come the closest to understanding my situation. Because she knew you’d never do to me what was done to your mother”. He lets out a long breath, nods a little, before scooting down and turning so he’s facing her. She has tears in her eyes that he notices for the first time and he cups her cheek in his palm before sliding his hand back to cradle her head and pulling her into his chest. 


	12. Earth’s Dangers

The Arrangement. Chapter Twelve: Earth’s Dangers. 

Octavia’s fist bounces off Clarke’s cheek lightly and Clarke shakes her head, annoyed with herself, before rebalancing so they can start again. It’s been weeks since the quarantine ended and the majority of the sickness passed. People are still getting sick here and there, but not in mass like before. And even though Bellamy warns her that another wave of illness will probably come with then end of the season, she is getting into a routine. She’s resumed her fighting and Trigedasleng lessons with Octavia, who has softened towards her, and her and Nyko have a pretty good system worked out at the Clinic. People seem to be coming around on trusting her as well, seeing her lock herself in the quarantine doing a lot to sway their trust. “I don’t think I’m getting any better” Clarke says, swatting Octavia’s hand away. 

“You are” Octavia counters, handing Clarke her water while taking a swig of her own. They’re farther into the woods than Clarke has ever been, feet crunching over a new layer of snow. They chat kind of idly while Octavia teachers Clarke how to hold herself and maneuver her weight in a fight. 

Octavia spends a lot of time talking to her in slow Trigedasleng now, translating when Clarke doesn’t understand something, or helping Clarke with words she hasn’t learned yet. It’s such a turn in their relationship, and such a help in her basic understanding of Grounder culture and she hopes Octavia understands how grateful she is. They stay out there for another hour or so, until the wind starts to pick up and the sun starts to dip behind the trees. They’ve picked up the last of their things when Octavia sees it and grabs Clarke’s elbow, both of them dropping their things as Octavia pulls her forward. 

Clarke is confused and uncoordinated and chances a glance behind them to see a huge cloud of orange fog, seemingly chasing them. Octavia stops and Clarke’s about to yell for her to keep running when she reaches to the ground and yanks up a door, pulling it towards her like a hatch, before grabbing Clarke’s wrist and pushing her inside, jumping down after her. It’s not an actual bunker, like Finn found near the Dropship, but an old car. It’s smallish, but there is enough room for each of them to sit comfortably once they’ve settled in. 

“It’s real” Clarke breaths out, air still coming in short angry huffs from the unexpected run. Octavia gives her a funny look so she elaborates, “Acid fog, Reapers, people who come from the mountain to kidnap Grounders…we thought maybe they were scary stories meant to keep people in line”. 

Octavia shakes her head a little, “The fog is very, very real” Octavia points up to where the world outside is tinged orange. In the distance, they hear the sound of the warning horn and Octavia rolls her eyes. “I’ve seen Reapers too, it’s…” she trails off, shuddering a little, “They have no memory of themselves, they become…viscous. It’s awful.” She’s quiet for a moment, “I’ve never seen the Mountain Men, but I know they take people. We don’t know why though”. 

It’s quiet for a moment as Clarke takes it in, new dangers to be wary of. It seems like Earth is a big trap, just more things than she ever thought possible hiding behind corners, waiting for her to slip up. “It’s incredible that you’ve survived” Clarke says and Octavia shrugs one shoulder. They talk for a while, about how this is the closest to home Octavia has ever seen the fog and how they hope it didn’t go much further, and about how they hope it never get close enough to the Village that they have to consider moving. After a while they lapse into a confrontable silence, Clarke picking at the seat in front of her while Octavia plays with the ends of her own hair. 

Clarke is half asleep when she feels Octavia poking at her calf with the toe of her shoe. She opens her eyes and glares at Octavia, it only makes her do it harder, flattening her foot against Clarke’s leg. Clarke reaches down and swats at Octavia’s ankle, her fingertips just barley making contact with Octavia’s skin. “You are such a freak” Clarke laughs out and Octavia grins. 

“So, what’s going on with you and my brother?” Octavia asks, voice bright and loud. Clarke rolls her eyes and Octavia starts to laugh. Clarke has gotten the feeling in the last couple of weeks that Octavia has shifted from being almost wary of Clarke’s relationship with Bellamy to being a sort of advocate for it. Clarke’s not sure what inspired the change but thinks it’s the closest thing to approval she’ll ever get from Bellamy’s sister so she tends to smile and roll her eyes good naturedly when it comes up. 

“Well, we’re married” Clarke answers dryly and Octavia kicks her foot against Clarke leg and shakes her head. “What do you want me to say, O?” Clarke askes, laughing now too. 

“I just…do you like him?” Octavia asks, she’s still smiling but her voice is serious. Clarke is half way through ‘of course I do’ when Octavia interjects, “Not like as…do you have feeling for him?” she corrects. Clarke tries not to react, doesn’t want to give Octavia any ammunition, or have her run back and tell Bellamy that she might have a crush on him. But, she knows her cheeks ting a little bit pink and even though she shakes her head a little, Octavia lets out a sharp “ha” before leaning towards Clarke a little and pinching her cheek “I knew it”. 

Clarke rolls her eyes, ready to argue, but Octavia grows serious fast, clearing her throat a little and Clarke feels like she shouldn’t interrupt. “Did you know that our mom was in an arranged marriage?” she asks quietly. 

Clarke swallows and nods a little, “Yeah, he told me” 

Octavia opens her mouth like she’s going to say something, then closes it and tilts her head a little, considering Clarke. “I think he has feelings for you” she says matter-of-factly. “But, he’d never make the first move” Octavia adds, “he’d never want you to think…” she trails off and shrugs a little. 

“It’s not like that” Clarke mumbles, folding into herself a little more. Octavia doesn’t answer, but she looks at Clarke like she can see all her secrets and it makes Clarke self-conscious, despite herself. A moment passes and Clarke tucks her hair behind her ears, “Octavia, even if I wanted that – and I’m not saying I do – but even if I did, we never could” Octavia tilts her head to the side, playing dumb even thought Clarke knows she isn’t. “We’re stuck together, forever, no matter what. So, if we try something that doesn’t work…” she trails off, shrugging on shoulder. 

“That’s so negative” Octavia says with a sigh. 

“It’s practical” Clarke argues and they settle into an easy silence, even though Octavia makes a face at her. Enough time passes that Octavia is about half asleep when Clarke nudges her with the toe of her shoe and points up towards the window. The air has cleared, the orange tint passed, and Octavia nods a little, standing up and holding on to one of the seats for balance as she looks around and the wrenches the door open and pulls herself out gracefully. Clarke pulls herself out after, but it is a less graceful affair and Octavia can’t stifle her laugh. “Shut up” Clarke mumbles when she’s next to Octavia. 

Hours have passed with them hiding in the ground and it’s now dark and a little cold. Clarke is so glad not to be alone in the woods, she’s not sure she could find her way back alone. But, Octavia seems sure of her steps, so Clarke follows her quietly. They don’t talk much on the way back, the cold and the dark requiring all their attention. Octavia is focused and sharp in a way that Clarke has rarely seen her. Clarke doesn’t realize how close they are to the Village until someone shouts Bellamy’s name and the gates open in front of them. 

Octavia is walking in front of her, so that’s who Bellamy gets to first when he runs over, responding to his name. He wraps an arm around his sister, relief written all over his face, eyes wild. He sees her a second later and she can see the way he exhales, and she barley has time to react when his free arm reaches out and pulls her in too. She can feel his face in her hair, his lips pressed against her temple, the way he breaths out against her neck. “So dramatic” Octavia says, her voice all easy affection as she pats Bellamy’s chest and steps out of the embrace. Bellamy and Clarke step back too, but he runs his hand down her arm as they do, pulling her hand into his. “Where’s Lincoln?” Octavia asks, looking around. 

Bellamy swallows before he answers, “Scouting. He was out when the fog hit and isn’t back yet. His group is the last one we’re waiting on”. Octavia nods a little and starts to take a step back, but Bellamy moves forward, grabbing the sleeve of her jacket. “You have no idea where he is. And if you leave and he comes back, he’ll have to go looking for you – it’d be a whole thing” He’s trying to make her laugh, but it isn’t working. 

“Maybe wait until morning, and we’ll go if he doesn’t come back tonight” Clarke offers, voice small behind Bellamy, who moves so she is more a part of the conversation. Octavia chews on the edge of her fingernail, considering, before she nods a little. They convince Octavia to come eat and wait in their cabin and she leans in to Bellamy a little when they walk and Clarke thinks it the youngest she’s ever seen Octavia look. Bellamy reaches back for her hand and she knows she blushes a little when she reaches out and takes it, jogging for a half step to catch up. 

Octavia and Clarke sit at the table, while Bellamy makes a fire and then pulls out some bread and puts some meat on the fire to warm up. When he glances back, Octavia and Clarke are sitting next to each other, Clarke leaning towards his sister and whispering comfortingly while Octavia nods a little, worried tears gathering in her eyes that she won’t let fall, fingers tapping on the wood of the table – an old nervous habit that doesn’t show up that often anymore. Bellamy is taken aback by the wash of emotions that hits him all at once. 

He makes sandwiches for the three of them and sits across from Octavia and Clarke. They eat quietly, chatting idly about the fighting lessons in the woods before the fog. They try to figure out where the fog came from, how it was on them so fast, but they don’t come up with much. Bellamy tells them that it didn’t come close to the Village, and Clarke feels a relief she’s not sure she was expecting. After a little time, they hear some kind of commotion going on outside and go to see what it is. 

Lincoln’s group is coming through the gates, Octavia’s name is being yelled by people who haven’t yet realized she is outside, but there is something wrong. They can’t tell what yet, but Clarke, Octavia, and Bellamy exchange worried glances as they push through the crowd. Octavia moves through people with a fierce determination and Clarke is impressed, can remember a time when she would have been intimidated. When they get to the front Clarke freezes for a moment, it causes Bellamy to bump into her back, but when he sees Jory he wraps his arm around her stomach from behind her while she takes in a deep breath. 

Jory is leaning against Lincoln, half passed out but whimpering quietly. He has what looks like burns on his leg and one of his arms, at least. They follow Lincoln to the Clinic where Nyko is already preparing a bed and as soon as he lowers Jory onto it he gathers Octavia into his arms and buries his nose in her hair. Clarke has never seen Lincoln look so shaken, and it unnerves her. She’s pulling bandages and salve off the shelfs while Nyko cuts he fabric of Jory’s clothes away from his body. Lincoln, Octavia, and Bellamy stay while Clarke and Nyko work. Jory finally passes out a few minutes after being laid down and when they’ve done all they can, Nyko tells them all to go home and get some sleep, patting Lincoln’s shoulder softly as he does. 

Jory’s boyfriend has come in at some point, and he’s leaning against the wall now, biting the skin on his thumb while he watches Jory sleep. Clarke knows him, Ivar, he’d been sick when it went around, spending several days in the Clinic. He’d stayed and helped at the Clinic, all but running the temporary tent they’d had to put up to keep the exposed away from the already sick. In his last day at the Clinic, in some rare down time, he’d tried to teach Clarke a game with dice but she’d been rubbish at it and she’d taught him Flip Cup instead and he’d laughed at her balancing a washer on her nose. “He’ll be okay” she whispers when she makes it to him, it’s a promise she has no business making, but she has to say something, and it’s what she’d want to hear. Ivar doesn’t say anything, but tears gather in his eyes when he nods. He reaches out and hugs her lightly and whispers a ‘thanks, Clarke’ in her ear and she nods as she separates. She shows him to a chair he can sit by Jory in and squeezes his shoulder when she goes to join Bellamy, Octavia, and Lincoln who are waiting for her by the door. Bellamy rubs the space between her shoulder blades as they walk outside. 

They file back out into the village, which has calmed down, everyone going home for the night, and walk towards their cabins together. Clarke notices the way Lincoln holds onto Octavia while they walk, like she’s going to disappear, and wonders what exactly happened to him while he was in the woods, how Jory ended up in the fog and how he was pulled out of it. They all whispers ‘goodnight’ when they split up and she feels Bellamy’s hand ghosting at the small of her back as they go up the steps to the cabin. 

He stokes the fire while she changes clothes and when she comes out of the bathroom, she cleans up the remains of their forgotten dinner quietly. “I didn’t think it was real” she mumbles quietly, staring at the empty table, when there is nothing left to clean up. Bellamy doesn’t say anything, but he comes over to the table and leans against one of the chairs. “The acid fog – when he told us, before the Ark came down, Miller and I thought it sounded crazy, I didn’t think…” she trails off, shaking her head a little. 

“You couldn’t have known” he says softly. “We don’t see it often, and it’s a relatively new phenomenon. We can’t explain it ourselves.” He’s quiet when he talks. 

She’s not sure why this is affecting her so much, and she doesn’t know how to explain it, so she just shakes her head a little. Bellamy comes around the table, so he’s next to her, and rubs her back quietly. After a moment, she turns and tucks herself into him, “Everything is so much different than I thought it would be” she mumbles into his chest and she can feel him nod against the top of her head. She pulls back a little and looks up at him to find him already looking down at her with wide, dark eyes. She swallows and he cups her cheek lightly. He mumbles her name, his voice low and cracked, and for a second, she’s sure he’s going to kiss her. But in the end, he runs his thumb along her cheekbone and smiles almost sadly before suggesting they get some sleep. 


	13. Past Lives

The Arrangement. Chapter Thirteen: Past Lives

Clarke wakes up and it’s early, early enough that when she squints to see out of the window it’s still dark. On a normal day, she’d roll over and go back to sleep, but she knows they are leaving for Arkadia soon, and she doesn’t have the time to spare. She moves carefully and slowly, trying not to wake Bellamy, but of course it doesn’t work. She’s shimmied about half way down the bed when his voice, gravely and low mumbles a sleepy “Where are you going?” 

“Just to the Clinic, I’ll be right back. Go back to sleep” she pats his leg a little as she stands and he mumbles something she can’t quite make out as he rolls over. She doesn’t bother changing out of her sleep clothes – a long t-shirt and a pair of stretchy black pants Octavia gave her, just finger combs her har as she walks. She stops and picks up breakfast for Ivar and Nyko before getting to the Clinic, pushing the door open with her back and tip-toeing in, in case anyone is asleep. 

Nyko is asleep, sitting at the chair by the desk she sometimes occupies, his feet up on the table, leaning back in the chair. Clarke wonders how long he’s been there – it doesn’t look at all comfortable. She sets his plate down on the table, trusting that he’ll see it when he wakes up. She turns to find Ivar watching her. “He’s been asleep like that for hours” he says quietly and Clarke snorts out a laugh as she hands him the other plate. He takes it, “Thanks”. 

“I just wanted to check in.” Clarke says, glancing over at Jory, “We’re leaving for Arcadia soon, but we should be back tonight” She feels guilty that she’s not going to be around to help Nyko with Jory, or even just to give him a few hours to go home and get some real rest, but he was the lone healer here for a long time and she knows he doesn’t begrudge her for visiting Arkadia. 

Clarke doesn’t know Jory well, only what Ivar told her while he was healing, and he tells her how they met while he eats his breakfast. When Clarke can start to see the sun, she tells Ivar that she’ll be back later and goes back to the cabin to change and get ready to leave. 

\---------------------------------------

Bellamy is already dressed and ready by the time she gets back to the cabin. She wants to roll her eyes, but just barley stops herself, he still huffs out a laugh though, so he must catch something in her expression. She grabs a change of clothes and takes them into the bathroom so she can wash her face too. It only takes her about five minutes to get ready, but when she comes out Bellamy makes a show of it, looking like he’s been waiting for her for hours. This time she rolls her eyes. 

Her pack, which she filled last night, is by the door so she grabs it as she walks out and glances behind herself to Bellamy, “We’re gonna be late, you should hurry” she teases and he barks out a surprised laugh and jogs a couple of steps to catch up mumbling ‘brat’ when he’s next to her and she shoves him lightly. 

Lincoln, Octavia, and Mari are already waiting at the gate, and they’re holding the reins of horses that are shuffling next to them. Clarke glances between the horses and Bellamy so many times that Bellamy starts to laugh at her and she stops, “Wait…seriously?” she asks. She’s been wanting to learn to ride for so long and when Bellamy nods she does a little jump before going over to Octavia. She lets Lincoln explain the basics to her, mostly because he’s he only one able to keep from laughing at her obvious excitement, and then watches the way Octavia gets on her horse – she makes it look easy, but Bellamy has to help Clarke. They let her set the pace, so that she can get comfortable, and she starts out pretty slow but by the time they’re halfway there she’s leaning forward in her saddle while the horse gallops forwards. 

Lincoln is at the front of the group when they get to Arcadia and the gates open with a whoosh. Clarke can remember a time when they wouldn’t open the gates if they didn’t see Clarke first. Now, Lincoln goes in and shares a handshake with Miller before heading off with Raven to check on the greenhouse. Octavia finds Monty and Jasper and they disappear to work on their weapons. Mari finds Roma, tucking her hair behind her ear shyly before the two go towards the smokehouse, which Mari offered to help complete. Clarke shoots inquisitive eyes towards Miller who nods, “Yeah, that’s definitely a thing” he says, dry buy smiling a little, and Clarke smiles, glancing over at Bellamy – this was the point of their marriage, the two groups really coming together, and she knows that he knows what she is thinking when he nods a little. She forgets, sometimes, that she’s been with Trikru for over half a year now, but here seeing the affect it’s had, she remembers. He goes to find Kane, who he’s told that he would give some more information on Grounder culture to. 

Abby may be the Chancellor, but it is very clear to Clarke that Miller is in charge, so she pulls him off to the side and explains the acid fog the best she can – wants to make sure he knows it’s real. They talk for about an hour before making their way back to the center of Arkadia. She pulls off her jacket, the weather is turning and while it’s still cool in the morning and evenings it’s warm in the day, and ties it to her saddle. A lot of the Skikru are gathered around the horses, petting them cautiously. 

Arkadia doesn’t need as much from Trikru as it used to, so a lot of the visits now are just check ins, a way to keep the alliance firm. And, friendships have been formed between a lot of the Hundred and the Trikru, she’s not sure anyone would admit that the trips are just about hanging out with their friends, or even if they are aware of it, but Clarke can see it pretty well. She loves it. 

They meet at the gate and leave with the promise to be back soon and once they’re past the gate Octavia turns to Bellamy and says _“Be safe. See you tomorrow”_ and Clarke looks between them, confused. 

Bellamy gives Octavia a look, _“You could come” _he says, like he already knows the answer and Octavia looks conflicted for a moment.__

____

____

_“Why start now?”_ is what she settles on and Bellamy opens his mouth like he’s going to list reasons to start whatever they’re talking about now and Octavia rolls her eyes _“Not looking for actual reasons, Bell”_ she says annoyed, but fond. 

Bellamy half shrugs and turns his attention to Clarke, “So, I have a thing I need to do, but I’ll be back late tonight”. It’s just vague enough to really grab Clarke’s interest and she cocks an eyebrow at him. He sighs, “There is just something I do every year around this time” she watches him look at her like he’s considering something before he swallows thickly, “You can come, if you want” he says, fringing an indifference that she can tell is false. She asks if he’s sure and when he nods, so does she. 

She can tell that Octavia is surprised that Bellamy invited her, but she just says _“Have fun”_ before her, Lincoln, and Mari head in the direction of the Trikru village. She follows behind Bellamy who gets more and more tense the closer they get to whenever they’re going. It feels like they’ve been riding for hours when he pulls to a stop abruptly, once she’s stopped she looks over at him questioningly. 

“It’s not far from here, but we have to walk it” he says, dismounting and helping her to do the same before tying the horses to a tree. They’ve been walking about fifteen minutes when Clarke sees a symbol carved into a tree with the inside of the craved lines painted bright and green, it looks like an upside-down heart with lines. She runs her fingers along it carefully and glances back at Bellamy. “Yujleda Clan” he translates for her, his voice just a little uneven and she snaps around to look at him. He half smiles at her, maybe a little nervous, and clears his throat, “Do you remember at the Dropship, you said that even though you hadn’t lived there long, it felt more significant than Arkadia?” he asks quietly and she nods. “I didn’t live here long, but it still feels significant” 

She reaches out and touches his arm, just above his elbow and he leans into it a little. “The clan isn’t large anymore and their best fighters were sent to other clans for arranged marriages at the same time as my mother. So, every year, when the weather starts to turn warm, I like to come and check in” she nods a little, he looks nervous in a way she’s never seen him look and she doesn’t know what to say so she squeezes his arm lightly and follows him when he turns a keeps walking. 

She doesn’t see it until they are in it, which she can tell is by design. Bellamy stops and she comes to stand next to him at the entrance of a village that has it’s communal building hidden in the foliage it’s named for, but it’s homes among the trees, Bellamy has to point it out to her, the Tree Houses that line the sky above them and she lets out a surprised laugh at how much she loves the idea. He lets them into the Village, the gate unmanned, and tugs her with him then points up at one of the houses, “That one was ours. It’s where I was born” he says, right by her ear, a little wistful. The door to that house is bright red and she smiles, is about to ask him if that was like that when it was his home or if it was new, but she misses her chance when Bellamy’s name is called from across the way. 

They both turn towards his name and he smiles at the woman who called it. Clarke realizes, looking around, that everyone is staring at them now. Grounders outside of the Trikru Clan know of the Skikru, but not in way that meant they were familiar with them. Clarke knows that she’s still something of an anomaly here, an interloper. And, she’s not sure if word had spread about her arranged marriage with Bellamy. It only occurs to her now that these people might have a stronger reaction than most to that – this being the last Clan to have to submit to arranged marriages to be brought into the Allied Clans. 

Bellamy hugs the woman who comes up to them and they talk between themselves. The language is enough like Trigedasleng that Clarke can recognize it, but different enough that she has trouble following it, especially considering how quickly they speak. It’s like hearing a different dialect of a language you’re still learning. 

The woman, Edna, calls the people milling about to attention and they look over at them. She introduces Clarke as a Sky Woman and Bellamy’s husband and says not to be alarmed if they see her in camp today. People settle back into whatever they were doing pretty quickly, the novelty of Clarke not keeping their attention. Bellamy says that he has some rounds to make and she nods. She’s planning to find a corner out of the way to hang out in, but Edna says Clarke can keep her company so Clarke follows her quietly. They settle at a table, out of the way, and at first, they’re quiet and Clarke mostly people watches. 

“You were sent to Bellamy, right? It was arranged?” Edna asks her and Clarke nods, looking over at her. “He’s a good man” Edna says and Clarke finds her self smiling a little, “He was a hot-headed kid” she remembers fondly and Clarke can’t help her laugh. “It was hard on him when his father died and then he was sent to Azgeda with his mother” Edna adds after a moment and Clarke finds herself looking out over the village, finding Bellamy talking with an older man who is skinning rabbits. “He still comes back here once a year though, started when he was a teenager…just checking in on things” Edna smiles. 

“That sounds like Bellamy” she answers, still looking at Bellamy for a second before she turns back to Edna with a soft smile. She has a feeling in her stomach that she can’t quite identify and the fleeting thought that Bellamy would be so easy to love and shakes her head a little, trying not to focus on that. 

Hours later, when the sun is just starting to dip below the trees, Bellamy finds Clarke and Edna sitting in the same spot, weaving baskets together. When he walks up, Clarke is laughing at something Edna said while she braids the basket materials and Bellamy touches his hand to the back of her shoulder lightly to let her know he’s there. She looks up at him and grins and he raises his eyebrows a little, “I’m learning all kinds of fun facts” she says and he groans. 

“What are you telling her?” He asks Edna. 

“Nothing that isn’t true” she answers with a smile. Bellamy says his good byes and Edna insists that she fill the basket Clarke made with dinner for them and she take it. Clarke is unable to say no and Bellamy lets out a laugh and tells her that he’s not surprised when she shows him. They walk back to the horses and give them water and food. Bellamy looks out across the land and surprises her when he says ‘come on’ and takes the basket from her. 

She though they’d be heading back to camp, but she follows him up a grassy hill. When they get to the top, there is a plateau with hundreds of wild flowers and enough space for them to sit and watch the sun set. Clarke smiles as she sits and Bellamy sits next to her, pulling items out of the basket and setting them in front of them. When it’s empty he turns the basket over in his hands, inspecting it and Clarke shoves his arm lightly, “It’s my first one!” she says even though he hasn’t said anything yet. 

Bellamy laughs, “I can tell” he dead pans and Clarke lets out a huff. “No, it’s good” he says, running his fingers over the bottom. “My mom was a seamstress, in peace times” he says, quiet, “Her and Edna would sit and work together for hours”. It’s quiet for a moment while Bellamy sets the basket down and looks out over the hill at the sunset. “Octavia has never been there” he says finally, “Never met any of them” he’s quiet and Clarke shifts a little closer to him and puts her hand on his knee. It seems to snap him out of whatever trance he was in and he looks over at her and smiles a little sadly. 

“Thanks for bringing me” she half whispers and he lifts up his arm so she can lean against him and then tucks her into his side. He turns his head and she can feel his lips move against her hair when he mumbles ‘thanks for coming’ and she smiles softly to herself. After a long moment, Bellamy blows out a long breath and starts unwrapping the food that was packed for them, spreading it out in front of them. 

They don’t move away when they eat, bumping each other accidently every once in a while. They don’t talk much either, both lost in their thoughts. Clarke can’t help but think back to her conversation with Edna – how she told Clarke that Bellamy was a good kid, protective of the people he loved, even back then and sweet. How he didn’t start to harden until he was sent to Azgeda, but how even then you could see the sweet kid underneath if you knew to look. She glances up at Bellamy who is looking out at the disappearing sun but looks very far away. She cleans up the discarded wrapping from their food and puts it back in the basket, setting everything aside and looks out at the think pink line of sun, leaning her head against Bellamy’s shoulder. He looks down at her rubbing his hand up and down her arm lightly, “We should head back” he whispers, probably noticing the way her head lulls against him as she gets sleepy and she just nods a little. He stands then pulls her up, leaning down to grab the basket after. 

He starts to turn to go back down the hill but Clarke doesn’t move, so he walks back over to stand in front of her, his hand on her elbow, “You okay?” he asks. 

Clarke nods a little, eyes distant like she’s thinking about something, before she raises herself up on her tip toes and presses her lips to his. He doesn’t react at all at first and Clarke starts to panic, sure that she’s made a terrible miscalculation. But when she starts to lose her nerve and pull back Bellamy’s hand on her elbow tightens just slightly before it slides up her arm and finally, finally, cups her cheek. Clarke opens her mouth under his and he makes a sound from the back of his throat that she wants to illicit again. It only lasts a second longer before he pulls back and rests his forehead on hers. His eyes are dark and he mostly looks dazed, but he kissed her back so she tries not to worry. “Bell…” she whispers as she lowers back down to the flats of her feet and his hand slides from her cheek to her hair, eyes closing for a moment at the sound of the nickname. She’s about to say something…anything else, when the wind picks up and she shivers a little. 

Bellamy pulls her closer to him and she lets out a relived sigh, pressing her face into his chest while he rubs one hand against her back, the other hand still in her hair. He presses a kiss to the top of her head “Lets go home, okay?” he whispers, “talk there?” he adds and she nods against his chest. When they step back from one another, Bellamy runs his thumb along her cheekbone and smiles at her, softer than she’s ever seen him look at her, and kisses her forehead. It feels like reassurance to her and she smiles. He takes her hand for the walk back to the horses. 

When they’re close enough to the village for Clarke to be getting her bearings, but not close enough to see it, Bellamy stops them. She looks over at him, he’s getting down from his horse and walking a few paces. He helps her down from her horse, “What’s going on?” she asks once she’s down. 

“Probably nothing” he says, running his hand down her arm lightly. “There’s just a lot of activity at the gates”. He takes the reins of both horses in one hand and takes Clarke’s hand in the other, walking towards the gate. 

When they get there Octavia is waiting by the gate and takes the horses, passing the reins off to someone else. She grabs Bellamy’s shirt sleeve and looks at him for a moment, “Bell, Nia sent -” 

“Echo” Bellamy cuts her off, eyes locked with a slim brunette who is in the center of camp with Anya and another man, “And Roan” Bellamy adds. For the first time in a long while Clarke can’t read his voice and she takes a half step back, feeling very much like she doesn’t belong. 

For a minute, it feels like everything stops and Bellamy, Echo, and Roan are caught in a stare while everyone watches them. But, then, the trance breaks and Bellamy and Echo meet in the middle with a short hug before Roan and Bellamy clasp each other on the back with a handshake. “What are you doing here?” Bellamy asks Echo and Roan. 


	14. Negotiations and Celebrations

The Arrangement, Chapter Fourteen: Negotiations and Celebrations 

Clarke glances around nervously before her eyes settle on Bellamy. She half expected him to be looking at her, but instead he’s having a silent conversation with Echo while Anya explains that representatives from Azgeda were sent to find peace with Trikru. He tilts his head at her and she rolls her eyes, he smirks and she levels a glare at him that morphs into an amused expression as she turns away, he dunks his head, pleased. Clarke knows that they dated before, and she realizes now that she doesn’t know how serious that was or why exactly they broke up. She hates the little flare of jealous insecurity that ignites in her chest, but she can’t stop it either. 

Now that the entirety of the council has arrived, Anya says it’s time to meet. Which, really just means that Anya, Bellamy, Lincoln, and a few others go into a cabin with Echo and Roan. Bellamy hangs back and comes over to where Clarke is standing. He looks apologetic, “I have to…” he trails off jerking his head towards the cabin and she nods. “I don’t know when I’ll be home, but we’ll talk then?” he sounds hopeful and she smiles softly. 

“Yeah. Of course.” She says and he nods before he jogs to catch up with the others. She swallows hard, getting ready to walk to the cabin when she feels Octavia tugging on her sleeve and she turns to look at her. 

“How was Yujleda?” she asks. 

“It was nice” Clarke nods. “Smaller than this” she gestures around, “And more mellow”. She holds up her basket, “I made this” 

Octavia snorts, “That sounds boring” and Clarke lets out a surprised laugh. They walk back towards the cabin together and Octavia bumps Clarke’s shoulder with hers right before they split up, “Don’t worry about Echo.” She says quietly, “Bell is totally over her”. Clarke wonders what kind of expression she had earlier that made everything so obvious and wonders if everyone could see it, or if it’s just another instance of Octavia being able to read her too well. Either way she nods a little before going back to her and Bellamy’s cabin. 

She takes a bath and washes out the tub, changes into sleep clothes and eats a little before grabbing her sketch book and sitting on the bed. She leans against the cabin wall and stretches her feet across the width of the bed so her heels dangle a little and pulls a blanket over her legs. She starts sketching, lighting a lantern to see, determined to wait up so she has time to talk to Bellamy tonight. 

\--------------- 

When Bellamy gets back to the cabin, he initially sees the light from the lantern and thinks Clarke is still awake. He’s surprised, it’d been the end of a long day when they’d gotten back and he’d been in with the Council for hours. But then he pushes the door open and turns towards the bed and sees that she’s sitting up, but she is very much asleep. He sees her sketch book hanging from her hand and a pencil on the bed and realizes that she had tried to wait up. He smiles a little, fond, and debates waking her. But, ultimately decides against it. Instead, he picks up the sketch book and pencil and sets them on the table. The sketch is of them and as soon as it catches his eye, he picks the book back up to look at it closer. In it they’re on the hill, the sun disappearing, Bellamy is looking out at it but Clarke is watching him, between them, their hands are linked. He stares at the picture for a long moment – he wants to take it, but he’s not sure that would be okay, so he sets it back down on the table and sighs. 

He lays Clarke down gently, getting her situated over the pillows and under a couple of blankets. After, he bathes and changes clothes and comes back into the main room. The basket Clarke made is on the table and he smiles, running his hand over the handle before going to the bed and laying down next to Clarke. Even though he doesn’t touch her as he lays down, it only takes a minute for her to search out his body heat, pressing against his side gently. He raises his arm and tucks her closer against him, leans down and kisses the top of her head and closes his eyes. He wants Clarke in a way he would have never expected six months ago, but he’s still not sure that it’s a good idea, or even if she really wants him back. He worries that the kiss was rash, spurred by a long emotional day, or that she only initiated it because she felt alone with the Trikru and that given time to think about it, she’d remember all the reasons that he is a bad idea. He wants to follow her lead, to see how she feels so that he can formulate reactions around that, but he has to talk to her for that and he can’t bring himself to wake her when she looks peaceful and content, tucked against him. 

He’s exhausted and he doesn’t want to swim in these thoughts, but he finds it hard to stop. Clarke mumbles something in her sleep and slides her arm around his waist and he presses his lips to the crown of her head before he’s even thought about it and then he freezes. He starts to think about how often he touches her without really thinking about it and wonders if what happened today hasn’t been building for longer than he realized. He’s still trying to sort it all out when he falls into a fitful sleep. 

He wakes before Clarke and tilts his head up to look out the window. He can see the sun, which means he should have been up already. He detangles from Clarke carefully and slips into the bathroom to change clothes and wash his face. On his way out, he crouches next to the bed and trails the back of his hand over Clarke’s cheek. She doesn’t wake up exactly, but she blinks at him blearily and he waits a second for her to ger her bearings a little. When she looks half focused he whispers, “I have to get back to the talks, but I’ll see you later?” he asks and Clarke nods, even as she looks a little disappointed. 

She tries to fall back asleep after he leaves but gives up when she can’t. She sits and rubs at her eyes, annoyed that she fell asleep before she got a chance to talk to him last night. She pushes off the bed and changes clothes before she goes to the Clinic. Jory and Ivar are the only ones there, but Jory is sitting on the bed and Ivar is in the seat he’d been occupying for the last couple of days. She leans against the doorway until Ivar notices her and she smiles. 

“You look so much better” she says to Jory who half waves at her. 

“Yeah, Nyko says I can leave in a couple of days, when the threat of infection has passed and these have started to scar” he gestures to the bandages covering his acid burns. The scars will be bad, Clarke knows, but he’ll live. 

“That’s great” Clarke says, taking the seat next to Ivar when he gestures. “Where is Nyko?” she asks glancing around. 

“Sleeping” Ivar gestures to the wall that divides Nyko’s home from the Clinic and Clarke nods. She stays and talks for a while longer until Octavia comes to get her. She lets Ivar and Jory know she’ll be back later and they both wave as she goes. It’s easy in a way she’d started to doubt friendships here could ever be for her. 

She and Octavia walk into the woods until they find a spot they’re satisfied with and sit on a toppled over tree trunk. “Talk to Bell last night?” Octavia asks easily, picking at her fingernails as she does and Clarke shakes her head. “I guess the Head told Azgeda that they had to figure their stuff out with us and Nia sent Roan and Echo to do the negotiating – probably thought we’d kill her if she showed up herself, probably thought that having them be a friendly face to someone on the Council would help too”. Octavia says. Clarke wants to ask how serious Bellamy and Echo were, but she knows that Echo had considered leaving Azgeda for Bellamy, so she guesses she already knows the answer to that. Besides, Octavia needs no encouragement, so she just nods a little. 

After a few hours, mostly consisting of Octavia besting Clarke in mock fights and then teasing her good-naturedly, they start walking back towards the village. They pass the small camp that Echo and Roan have been let to make, it’s on Trikru land, but not within the gates of the actual village. It’s just a couple of tents and a firepit, but still. They walk into the village, chatting with the warrior in charge of guarding the gate for the day. It happened so slowly that Clarke almost hadn’t noticed, but she has been almost universally accepted by the people here and it warms her. It took a long time, but she is happy and relieved that it happened. 

She hears the sound of Bellamy letting out a quick laugh and looks over to see Echo looking pleased with herself while Bellamy answers whatever she said to make him laugh, gesturing wildly. She bites her lip a little, when she kissed Bellamy she was so sure that he felt for her what she felt for him, or at least something close. But watching him tease Echo makes her wonder if he wouldn’t be happier with someone more like him. With a background more similar to his. Whatever confidence she had when she kissed him in front of the sunset leaves her, it feels almost physical, the loss of it. 

Octavia tugs her into the food line and they pick up dinner and settle at a table on the edge of the common area. “What’s wrong?” Octavia asks her quietly as they sit. 

She shakes her head a little, “I’m just tired” she says and Octavia doesn’t believe her at all, but she lets the subject drop all the same. It’s quiet at their table until Bellamy, Lincoln, Echo, and Roan set their food down and settle in with them. Lincoln kisses Octavia quickly as he sits, he straddles the bench and pulls Octavia closer to him while the eat and Clarke breaths out a smile watching them. Bellamy sits next to Clarke and presses his hand to her back as he settles in. “Hey” she says as he sits, but she doesn’t say anything else and she can see his eyebrows pull together as he looks at her, confused. Roan and Echo sit down and Bellamy introduces them to Clarke, for all she’s heard about them she hadn’t actually met them and she forces herself to smile when they wave at her. 

“So…arranged marriage? That’s horrible.” It the first thing Echo says and Roan groans lightly. 

“Really?” Roan deadpans. 

“What – it’s not?” Echo defends half shrugging, Roan tilts his head, conceding the point. Clarke can feel herself tense, wonders if Bellamy told her it was horrible. Bellamy puts his hand over hers on the bench and she closes her eyes. She would have agreed once, would have loved the comradery of some who understood that being married off wasn’t normal. But, for as much as she knows she’s being ridiculous, she can’t take that comradery from Echo. 

“It’s what had to be done” Clarke says, detached, and all at once she can feel all the eyes at the table on her, but she forces herself to eat, pulling her hand out from under Bellamy’s to do so. The conversation mostly happens around her after that and she can feel Bellamy watching her through most of the meal, very carefully not touching her, like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed anymore. As soon as it feels like she can, she excuses herself from the table and goes to the Clinic. 

Clarke and Bellamy hardly see each other over the next few days. For the most part Bellamy comes home after Clarke is asleep and leave before she wakes, it’s not intentional, the talks just take up the whole day. He doesn’t wake her up before he goes anymore and he hasn’t tried to talk to her about the kiss again. The bed has largely reverted to what is was when they first started sharing it – he never touches her there anymore and she never wakes up to find herself pressed against him. She hadn’t realized how much she liked to be tucked into him when she sleeps. They run into each other around the village sometimes, both eating at the same time and things like that. When they do, it’s all small talk – the Clinic and how negations are going, easy and impersonal subjects. And he never reaches out and touches her, what ever made her worthy of his casual affection now, apparently, gone. She doesn’t have the nerve to reach out to him, or to bring it up, isn’t sure she wants to. Or, at least, isn’t sure she should want to. 

The next day Jory gets out of the Clinic and the day after Ivar asks him to marry him and they decide to do it soon. Clarke volunteers her help, both because she is excited for the wedding and because she thinks a project will help her take her mind off what is going on with Bellamy. So, her and Octavia turn their normal training time into wedding prep time. They go to the same clearing where Clarke married Bellamy and work on setting up decorations. “You didn’t decorate for my wedding” Clarke teases, hanging a string of candles that will light up the area behind the alter. 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t like you…or your marriage” Octavia sing-songs. 

“Thanks, Sis” Clarke deadpans, moving to set up an area they’ll be able to use for food. 

“So, can I ask what’s going on with you and Bell or are you going to yell at me too?” Clarke turns and looks at her, confused. “Yeah, Bellamy freaked out at me when I asked him, so…” 

Clarke shakes her head a little, “I don’t really know” she says quietly and Octavia climbs down from where she had been hanging a decorative string of colors in a tree and leans against it. “I kissed him” she says it quick, like pulling off a band-aide, “But…he didn’t…I don’t…he doesn’t want…” she tries in fits and starts and Octavia comes over and hugs her quietly, which is nice, but makes Clarke think she must be really pathetic. 

Octavia doesn’t have time to say anything because some of the Hundred break through the tree line and Clarke wipes her eyes quickly before they make it to her. Jory and Ivar said she could invite whoever might want to come so she did. Monty and Jasper are carrying a huge container of moonshine between them and they hoist it up on the table Clarke points at. Raven made fireworks that “definitely won’t hurt anyone” and Octavia shows her a place they can set them up. They made some food too, and they set that up quietly, Murphy swatting away Jasper’s hand when he reaches to take a bite of something. There is only an hour or so until the wedding so Clarke and Octavia head back to Trikru to get ready while the members of the Hundred promise to stay and keep things safe until they get back – which mostly means not letting anyone eat the food, or accidently set off the fireworks. 

When they get back to Trikru, Octavia pulls Clarke to her cabin, having promised to get her something to wear, Clarke having nothing wedding appropriate. Lincoln is finishing up getting ready and he says hi as they come in. Octavia kisses him quickly and then pushes him towards the door, “get out” she says lightly. 

“Love you too” he says mild, sharing an eye roll with Clarke as he leaves. 

They take turns taking quick baths and changing into dresses. Octavia found a pretty dark purple dress that fits Clarke decently and Octavia has a stunning red dress of her own. Octavia uses crushed red berries to stain their lips and a lock of Clarke’s pale hair, and dark charcoal to paint their eyelids and then sits behind Clarke and pulls her hair into braids that feel intricate to her but seem to come to easy to Octavia. When she looks in the mirror she realizes quietly that she is a Grounder. She’d been integrating Grounder clothes into her wardrobe for months now – mostly coming from people who insisted on giving her something when she helped them at the Clinic, but this is the first time she’s seen herself really look like a Grounder. “You look great” Octavia says from behind her and Clarke whispers ‘thanks’ as she turns away from her reflection. 

Her and Octavia go back to the clearing once they are ready, wanting to put finishing touches on everything and light the candles that they set earlier. Octavia works on that while Clarke arranges food and plates that people bring. Jory and Ivar arrive separately and go to the tents set up for them to get ready in. Clarke looks around, deciding that everything is ready and smiles to herself. 

Lincoln is standing with Octavia off to one side, his arm around her waist. Monty and Harper are standing together in the middle of the crowd, heads bent together and smiling softly. Roma and Mari are sitting in the grass by the tree line and as Clarke’s eyes flit over them, she sees Roma lean in and press her lips to a smiling Mari’s. Miller is by the food, arguing good naturedly with Murphy, who is very proud of the cake he brought, with this arm linked with Jackson’s. Clarke closes her eyes, she can feel tears gathering against her eyelids, but this isn’t the time so she blinks until she can’t feel them anymore. 

“Hey” she hears behind her, voice almost cautious, and she turns to see Bellamy walking up to her. 

“Hey” she returns. She hasn’t spent any significant time with him in a week, and she’s struck with how much she misses him. 

“You’re beautiful” he says, he reaches out like he’s going to touch her arm but his hand falls before it makes contact, like the last week is coming back to him. 

She blushes and dunks her head a little. “You look nice” she says quietly and he shrugs. But it’s true – he’s in dark pants and a dark short sleeved shirt that fits him well. You can see his tattoos peaking out, which you normally can’t and he’s clearly tried to smooth his hair back but it’s humid out and it’s already starting to curl again, which she likes. 

Echo and Roan pass them and go into the crowd, getting mugs of moonshine as they go. Roan raises his eyebrows at her in acknowledgement and she tilts her head back at him – they didn’t have a ton of interaction while he was at Trikru, but he struck her as someone she could be friends with, given the time. The negotiations are over, but Anya decided that they could attend the celebration and leave in the morning. They didn’t want much, but they had a list from Nia that had to be worked through, according to Lincoln. Bellamy is about to say something but music starts being played from near the alter and they make their way over there instead. 

“This is a lot different from ours” Clarke says without really thinking once they’ve found a place to stand. 

It’s loud, excitement gathering, so Bellamy leans down to say “It’s great, you did a great job with it” in her ear and steadies himself with a hand on the small of her back without thinking about it. When he realizes what he’s doing he drops his hand like it was burnt and Clarke pulls in a deep breath. 

Jory and Ivar are called out and the ceremony starts. It’s functionally the same as hers and Bellamy’s was, but less perfunctory and that makes it feel completely different. They have vows for each other, instead of just agreeing with the Cleric marrying them like Clarke and Bellamy had and when Ivar talks about how scared he was when Jory was hurt Clarke flashes back to her fear when Bellamy had gotten sick. She doesn’t let herself think about it, she just leans back against him and grabs his hand from his side, pulling his arm around her. 

He stiffens at first and for a horrifying second Clarke thinks he is going to pull away, but instead he settles his arm around her more completely and sweeps his thumb across her hip, like now that he’s touching her again, he can’t not, and she closes her eyes when she breaths out a relieved sigh. She can feel it, like a physical twist in her stomach, the relief that comes with his arm around her, with his touch. He tilts his head to rest his forehead against her temple and whisper in her ear, “I miss you, Clarke” like a confession, before he kisses her temple and looks back towards the ceremony. When he glances back down at Clarke she has tears slipping out from under her eyelashes. He swallows thickly, he’s not sure if he messed up somehow, said the wrong thing or took something too far, but when he tugs her around to face him and traces the pads of his thumb across her cheeks and pulls her into his chest she doesn’t fight any of it it, which makes him feel like this is okay to be doing. 

After a second to pull herself together, Clarke turns back around so that she can watch the ceremony, but she stays in Bellamy’s arms. He tucks her in front of him and rests his chin on her shoulder, slouching to make it work, his arms around her waist. When Jory and Ivar finally kiss the fireworks go off behind them and Clarke jumps a little in Bellamy’s arms and he laughs lightly, “You knew that was coming” he reminds her, teasing, and she presses her elbow back against his stomach lightly. He straightens as they watch the flame explode into colors in the sky before another one follows it. 

The wedding turns into a party pretty quickly and Clarke feels kind of awkward. She’s not sure where she and Bellamy stand, but they can’t talk about it here and she doesn’t want to spend the whole night worrying either. So, when Bellamy pulls her to him she decides to think about it later. Jasper comes over to them and mock formally asks Bellamy if he can borrow Clarke and promises to ‘return her in her current pristine condition’. Bellamy laughs and Clarke pushes away from him and lets Jasper take her hand dramatically and lead her to the area where people are dancing. They walk past Jory and Ivar who are in the midst of getting matching tattoos, a Grounder tradition for marriage. Another thing her and Bellamy didn’t’ do. 

She ends up in the middle of a group that includes Jasper, Monty, Harper, Miller, and Jackson. Jasper tries to give her a glass of moonshine, but for as unsure of what is going on with Bellamy as she is, she knows she wants to stay sober and clear to find out. After she dances for a while, she decides to walk a little. She’s by herself near the tree line, drinking a glass of water when Echo approaches her. She stiffens almost automatically but Echo seems casual and unconcerned. 

Echo follows her line of sight to Bellamy, who is talking with Octavia and Raven. “You love him, don’t you?” she asks with absolutely no preamble. 

A million things run through Clarke’s mind, but in the end, she’s probably known for a while and she can’t think of a reason to lie. It feels weird for Echo to be the first one she tells, but she nods all the same. “But I don’t think he…” she trails off, shaking her head. 

“You don’t need to worry about that”. She says it fondly, and softer than anyone with Echo’s brutal reputation has the right to sound, but it makes Clarke relax immediately. She’s not sure she realized it until just this moment, but she thinks she expected Echo to still have feelings for Bellamy, or at least to not want anyone to have him, but when she adds “I’m glad that he is finding happiness, it is…overdue” Clarke finds that she believes her. 

“Thank you” she whispers, offering a small smile before Echo nods and walks back down the path that will return her to the party. Clarke watches her share an exchange with Bellamy that has him shaking his head with a fond smile when she passes him. It still makes jealously flair in her stomach. But, Clarke thinks, it might not be romantic jealously as much as it is jealously for how well Echo knows him, how at ease he seems to be with her. 

Later, she sees Bellamy talking with Miller and Jackson and goes over to him, He’s drinking water, she notices, and wonders if it’s for the same reason as her. He holds his arm out, but doesn’t touch her, letting her decide and she steps in easily, smiling when he wraps his arm around her and tucks her into him all without breaking his conversation with Miller and Jackson. 

The whole night goes like that, until things start to wind down, there are still a lot of people but folks are starting to trail off. Clarke is walking with Bellamy when he turns towards her, he starts to ask if she’s ready to head home but Clarke summons all her courage and pulls on the hem of Bellamy’s shirt and tugs him towards her until he is close enough for her to kiss. He responds immediately this time, one hand in her hair and one on her hip, pulling her closer. 

When they break apart, Bellamy is smiling which makes Clarke feel lighter right away. “Can we go home?” she asks quietly and Bellamy nods, reaching his hand out to her and starting the walk back to the cabin. 


	15. A Million Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are not a fan of smut, this is probably not the chapter for you. Please proceed accordingly.

The Arrangement, Chapter Fifteen: A Million Things

When they get back to the cabin, they easy energy that pulled them in right after the kiss has dissipated and in its wake is a nervous unease that has Clarke buzzing. She walks over to the table and leans against one of the chairs while she steps out of her shoes, kicking them into the corner. She glances over at Bellamy when she does it, just to see if he reacts – she knows that he hates it, that his inner neat freak has an attack every time she leaves something in a place where it doesn’t belong. He shakes his head a little when her eyes meet his and she can’t help but smile. He runs his hand through the short hair at the back of his neck, rocking back on his heels a little. 

She doesn’t know what to say, so she’s just shifting her weight from one foot to the other, feeling silly and self-conscious. And then, all of the sudden, Bellamy is right in front of her, less than an inch of space between them, his hand hovering over her cheek, but not actually touching her. “I’m going to kiss you” he whispers, his lips almost brushing the tip of her nose, “If that’s okay?” he asks, voice impossibly quieter. 

She tilts her head up to look at him and nods, breaths out a “please” and all the sudden he is all over her. His hand in in her hair, the other on her cheek and he walks them backwards until her back thumps softly against the wall. She arches against him as her eyes flutter closed, pressing her chest to his and smiling a little at the groan he lets out. She has one hand in his hair and the other on his shoulder, pulling him closer even though there is hardly any space left between them. 

Her hand goes from his shoulder to dip under the hem of his shirt so she can get the feel of skin on skin and his lips tear away from hers, “Hey this isn’t…I mean, I don’t…” he shakes his head and takes a half step back as he pulls in a deep breath and for one terrifying second, all her insecurities come rushing back and she’s sure he’s going to say it’s just sex or something equaling horrifying. It must show on her face, because he leans down and kisses her, just once, just the press of his lips on hers, all reassurance. “Clarke, I mean, I’m in love with you, you know that right” he says, sounding genuinely worried and she lets out a happy surprised laugh. She hadn’t known that – not for sure, but she’d hoped it and she surges forwards, pressing her lips to his again, her smile ruining it a bit. 

He pushes forwards, catching his weight on the cabin wall, the sound of it reverberating around them. Clarke slides her hands under his shirt, pulling it up until it’s bunched around his chest. He leans away from her enough for her to push it over his head and let it drop to the floor before he leans back towards her. He’s about to kiss her again, but Clarke swallows and puts her hand on his cheek so instead he pressed his forehead to hers, “okay?” he asks quietly and Clarke actually laughs a little, because she is so much better than okay. 

She looks up from under her eye lashes so she can meet his eyes, “I just, I love you too, and I wanted to say it before…”. His head drops from her forehead to her shoulder and he lets out a shaky breath before he whispers her name, voice a little broken and lost. She presses back against the wall to create a little space so she can pull his face up to meet hers. She kisses him once, just a quick press of her lips to his, before she whispers, “I love you Bell” and he closes his eye for a moment before his lips crash back onto hers. 

He kisses down the column of her throat and mouths along the neck line of her dress. Her head knocks against the wall when it falls backwards and she can feel the vibration of his laugh against her neck. He moves his lips back to hers and slips one hand around to the back of her neck and the other to the small of her back and pulls her away from the wall and then walks her backwards until the back of her legs touch the bed. She doesn’t sit, like he expects, instead she folds her legs under her on the bed and stands on her knees, so they’re just about the same height. He lets his hand slip down her side and to her leg, his fingers play at the hem of her dress which is pooled around her knees before his hand slides under her dress and up her thigh. He pulls at the fabric a little and looks up at Clarke, just checking in, but she smiles a little, bottom lip caught between her teeth, and he pulls the dress off of her. She’s wearing plain underwear and a corset under and her cheeks tinge pink a little, self-conscious again. “you’re perfect” he mumbles, lips against her shoulder as he presses wet, open mouth, kisses along the now bare skin. 

Her breath catches in the back of her throat when his hand slides across her leg, his thumb brushing against the outline of her underwear. She fumbles with his pants, but she’s having trouble focusing with his lips pressed against her neck and his hands on her skin. Finally, she gets them pushed down and he steps out of them without pulling his mouth off of her skin. She’d be impressed, if she had the brain space for it. He traces the top of her corset with his fingers, light and inquisitive, his mouth following the line of his finger right after. Clarke pulls in a sharp breath, exhaling with a little sigh, her hands mapping out the muscles on his back. “Bell, I want…” she trails off not sure how to articulate what she’s looking for. All she can think is “more” and she doesn’t realize she’s said it out loud until he sucks at the space behind her ear and she lets out a breathy moan before he whispers ‘I’ve got you, Clarke’ in her ear and she feels like she can’t support her own weight anymore. 

She’s only had sex once, with Finn in the bunker. And it had been a lot more perfunctory than this; there hadn’t been any foreplay, it’d hurt a little, and he hadn’t touched her like Bellamy does, like he wants to be careful with her and touch every part of her all at once. Like he loves her. And she’d fooled around on the Ark, but it had been teenagers fumbling around in the dark before their parents got home. Nothing like this. And all the sudden she’s nervous. She really has no idea what kind of experience Bellamy has, but she knows it’s more than her. And she doesn’t want to be a disappoint for him. He must feel the change in her because he cups her cheeks with both of his hands and pulls her eyes to meet his, waits for her to be really looking at him before he whispers “okay?” and she lets out a breath and crashes her lips to his, pulling him over her as she lays back on the bed. 

His hand goes to the tie on the top of the corset and she hitches one leg around his hip as he starts to pull on the strings until it falls open and Clarke’s breasts fall exposed. He leans up and kisses down her throat until he gets to her chest and he pulls back to look at her. He drops his forehead to the hollow between her breasts for a moment before he pulls the corset away from her completely and lets it fall to the floor. When his mouth closes over one of her breasts, Clarke’s head pushes back into the bed and her hips rise a little of their own accord, trying to find friction that she’s coming to desperately need. Bellamy’s hand trails down her stomach lightly, in any other time it might have tickled but she’s far to keyed up for Bellamy’s touch to feel like anything but fire on her skin. His hand makes it down to her cunt and he touches her over her underwear and her whole body jerks a little. He hums a little around her breast before his mouth moves to the other breast, kissing his way across the valley of her chest as he goes. 

His hand doesn’t venture under her underwear, but he scrapes his fingernails lightly across her the damp spot that has formed. It’s not enough for Clarke who bucks up against his fingers fruitlessly, without even realizing she’s doing it. His mouth releases her breast with a quiet wet popping sound and Clarke gives a little whimper. Bellamy kisses from her breasts down her stomach, pausing at her belly button to nip lightly, his hand massaging her inner thigh lightly as he does. His lips finally reach the elastic top band of her underwear and his touch traces the line lightly. He looks up at her, her head thrown back, eyes screwed shut. She has one hand tangled up in the sheets next to his head and the other pressing, open palmed against her own stomach. He reaches one hand to the one on her stomach, intertwining their fingers and squeezing softly. Her eyes blink open and when they find his they are dark and wild and he grins up at her. His other hand squeezes her thigh lightly before his thumb brushes under the elastic at the side of her underwear. It’s quick, just the brush of his finger across the short hair and dampness there, but she still lets out a little gasp as her head falls back against the bed. He does it a few more times, until she is bucking up at him and he moves their interlaced hands from her stomach to rest against her hip so he can use them to hold her still. He tugs at her underwear until they slide down her legs and pushes them off and to the floor and then pauses, resting his chin on her hip and waiting for her to look at him again, “Okay?” he asks, his voice a whisper, when she does. 

She nods, a little frantic, and he runs two fingers along her slit, just gathering the wetness there, and she jerks against him, letting out a long moan. When he pushes a finger into her, her whole body arches a little and her head slams back against the bed with a soft thud. He leans in and noses against her folds for a moment, letting her acclimate, before he pushes another finger into her, pumping them in and out softly, at the same moment his lips close around her clit. She lets out a quiet moan and he hums softly when she squeezes his fingers against her hip. It’s only another moment before she lets out a loud, shaky breath and he feels her start to clench around him. He laps at her gently, coaxing her through it, and after a moment, her unfocused eyes find his and he nips at her inner thigh gently, earning a quick little high-pitched sound from her before he kisses back up her body. 

As soon as he’s close enough, she pushes up and presses her lips to his. She can taste herself there and it brings into sharp focus how much she wants him. She can feel the length of him from where he’s pressed against her hip, through the fabric of his undershorts and she reaches down to try to pull the fabric away. She doesn’t have the right angle, but he catches on and peels them off himself, letting them fall. She reaches down and strokes him, he groans and drops his forehead to her shoulder as she wraps her fingers around him. It’s half experimental, seeing if she can make him feel good the way he does for her. He bites gently against her shoulder, his breath coming fast and harsh and she feels oddly proud of herself. She wraps one leg around his hips, pulling his weight to settle between her legs. He has one arm over her head, supporting his weight and he plays his fingers in her hair, thumb sweeping over her forehead softly while his other hand lines him up with her entrance. He waits until he catches eye contact with her and kisses her forehead, the tip of her nose, the jut of her chin, and then finally her lips before he pushes into her. 

He stays still for a moment, his thumb still sweeping against her forehead while his other hand presses against her hip, until her hand on his back turns into her nails on his back and she cants her hips a little, then he starts to rock his hips gently. Her mouth falls open under his and he kisses her bottom lip before pressing his forehead to hers, passing the same breath back and forth as the snap of his hips picks up in pace and Clarke wraps one hand around the back of his neck, holding him there, while her other hand is on his back. Her hips raise to meet his and they fall into a good rhythm. His hand falls from her cheek to trail down her body and snake between them, finding her clit and rubbing circles against it, fast and tight. Her breath starts coming faster as she loses the rhythm and the hand on the back of his neck tightens until she presses his face forwards and it smashes against his shoulder. She bites against his earlobe softly before her high breathy moan is all he hears as she flutters against him, falling apart. His hips being to slam against hers more frantically as he follows her over the edge after only a moment. 

He threads his fingers in her hair while they’re both still breathing heavy and pulls her head back so he can see her and kisses her softly. She smiles when they pull back and he pulls out of her and settles next to her, pulling her to him gently. She settles against his chest, tracing patterns there, “We should talk” he whispers against her skin and she glances up at him from under her eyelashes. 

She’s tracing a small scar on his back, an inch or so from his hip, he has a lot of scars, most of which she’s noticing for the first time tonight. She wonders if he got any of them fighting Skikru. “How’d you get this?” she whispers back and he lets out a surprised laugh. 

“Not what I meant, Princess” but he can’t even find it within himself to sound annoyed. 

She smiles and presses a kiss to his chest. “Tomorrow morning?”. She knows they need to talk, but she’s not ready for a conversation that will certainly change her life. 

She hears him sigh softly even as he presses his lips to her forehead and hums in agreement softly. She falls asleep with her head on Bellamy’s chest and his fingers in her hair. 

She wakes up to Bellamy shuffling around the closet, pulling a shirt on his wet skin, fresh from the bath. She sits up, confused until she remembers that Echo and Roan are leaving and he is to be a part of the group seeing them off, puslls a blanket around her shoulders, and blinks at him, watching him until he notices and cocks an eyebrow at her. She lets out a groan and flops back down on the bed. “So, I’m guessing you don’t want to come” he says, laughter in his voice. Anya had told her she could, and maybe she should – maybe she owes Echo some kind of thank you, maybe she wouldn’t have figured out her stuff with Bellamy had Echo not approached her at the wedding. But, in the end, she just groans again and turns her face into the bed. He kisses the top of her head on his way out. 

He comes back not long later, it was a short goodbye – not a formal ceremony of any variety. But, it is tradition that the Council, and anyone who was a part of negotiations, see the departing party off. Bellamy isn’t naive, and neither is Anya, they are under no delusions that this will solve things between them and the Azgeda, not long term – not until Nia is gone, really. But, Bellamy decides as he pushes the door to the cabin open, that is a problem for another day. 

Clarke is about where he left her, sprawled out on the bed, face pushed into a pillow. But, she’s gotten up at some point, because she is wearing his shirt as a night dress and seeing it does funny things to his stomach. He sits on the edge of the bed to toe his shoes off and Clarke mumbles something unintelligible and blinks up at him before sitting up so she’s next to him. He’s not sure what to do, what is okay for him to do now. “Good Morning” he says softly. She smiles, dunks her head and whispers ‘good morning’ back. He’s about to say that they should talk, figure out what it means that they had sex, but she swallows hard a half second before her lips press against his. 

It knocks him a little off balance, the unexpected weight of her pushing against him, and his mouth opens a little in surprise while her fingers fiddle with the buttons on his shirt. He mumbles her name against her lips and she hums against him, pressing her lips against his as she finishes with the buttons and flays his shirt open. His shirt falls off his shoulders, pooling around his elbows where they are bent to let his hands cup her face. She kisses down his jaw and nips at his earlobe and he can’t help his sharp intake of breath, the way his hand tightens in her hair for a fraction of a second. He thinks she likes it though, if the little moan she lets out is an indication. Her hands move for his pants and he pulls back from her, just a little, to look at her. She bites her lips when he does, hiding her face behind her hair. He pushes his hand through her hair, to move it out of her face, and kisses her forehead lightly, “We should talk about this” he mummers, hardly above a whisper. 

“We will” she answers and then, not even a second later, leans up to kiss him again, a kiss with intent, before cupping him through his pants. He’s already hard and he’d be embarrassed about the involuntary jerk his hips give towards her hand if she didn’t seem to enjoy it so much. He stands to shuck his pants and before he can sit back down, Clarke is on the edge of the bed wrapping her hand around his length. His hand goes to het hair immediately, his breath turning into sharp short puffs of air. 

She gives a couple of short experimental tugs before her other hand comes up to cup his balls lightly and her mouth covers the tip of his dick without any warning at all. His whole-body shudders and he gives a curse. When her tongue flips out over the top of his dick before licking down his shaft, her mouth closing around him and her cheeks hollowing out, it’s an effort not to thrust into her mouth. Instead, he pulls her off of him, her mouth falling away with a pop, and climbs on the bed next to her, standing on his knees and hovering over her. She looks up at him with wide, nervous, eyes and it occurs to him that she might feel self-conscious. “You’re amazing” he murmurs as his lips come to crash down on hers again. 

He lets her flatten her palm against his chest and push him backwards. Tugs her shirt off as she straddles him. She pauses for a moment and he brushes her hair back from her face, cupping her cheek lightly with one hand while his other squeezes her hip lightly. “You’re amazing” he repeats, his thumb soothing over her cheek. She smiles, soft, before she sinks down on him and they both let out low moans. She’s still for a moment, figuring out how she wants to move, and when she does start to rock her hips it’s slow and experimental and she keeps changing it slightly until she finds a rhythm she likes and he matches it, letting her set the pace. 

It’s slow and languid, different from the night before, and her hands rest on his chest for balance while she rolls her hips against his. He has one hand on her hip, helping her keep the rhythm, and his other hand falls from her cheek to press against one of her breasts, pinching her nipple softly, which makes her hips buck wildly against his for a few thrusts, before he trails it the rest of the way down her body and between them so that he can rub against her clit. It hits her all at once and her pace turns frantic, head lulling back, mouth falling open, little noises coming unbidden, before she’s clenching around him and then leaning forwards against his chest. He wraps his arm around her back and switches them, so he is over her and can snap his hips into her. It’s frantic, him chasing her over the edge, and he comes with his face in her hair. 

When he rolls off of her, she tucks herself into his side immediately. She wishes she hadn’t just woken up, because she’d like to go to sleep. Bellamy wraps his arm around her and she sighs softly, tracing patterns on his chest. He mummers her name and she glances up at his face from under her lashes. He sighs softly and raises up on his elbow, leaning over her, his free hand in her hair, twirling the lock of red around his index finger. 

She knows they need to talk, need to figure everything out. But she is terrified of what that might mean for them, that talking about it could screw everything up – that scrutinizing it too closely could be the thing that pulls back into focus how much could go wrong. She presses up to kiss him, just once, and he smiles down at her when she settles back in. “Did you love Echo?” she asks, voice in a whisper, feels guilty when he winces a little. But full force is the only way she knows how to operate, so she just keeps looking at him. 

“I don’t know” he whispers back. “I don’t think so”. Clarke nods a little, not sure how to ask what she really wants to know. But, it’s okay, he seems to be able to read her mind anyway, “I don’t now, Clarke. And I don’t want to be with her now either”. She nods a little. 

“You guys just seemed so close, so familiar” 

He nods a little, “We were.”. She tucks herself closer to him, seeking out reassurance that he wants her. He breathes out her name and kisses her forehead, “We were angry misfit kids together, that meant something, you know?” he says and she nods a little. She gets it – her and Wells were kids together too. 

“Hey” his voice brings her out of her thoughts and she pulls her eyes back to his. “I love you” he whispers and she smiles. 

“I love you too” she answers, smiles when he does, looking at little awed at her words. “Do you think this will be okay?” she gestures between them a little. 

“I think being in love with my wife is probably fine” he teases and she barks out a surprised laugh. 

“If something goes wrong, though…” she trails off. They are stuck together, no matter what, for the rest of their lives. And they both know it. There are a million things that could go wrong – that could make this unbearable. 

“It won’t” he promises, kissing her lightly. He tries to play it off like he’s unconcerned. And even though she knows better, she lets him. They can always fret later, they might as well enjoy the moment now. 


	16. A Place Called Home

The Arrangement. Chapter Sixteen: A Place Called Home 

Clarke is laying on her stomach on the bed with a book propped up on the railing of the foot board. It’s warm, so she has all the windows open, curtains fluttering lightly, the breeze nice on her skin. She’s wearing a t-shirt and her underwear, knees are bent so her feet can swing idly above her hips. She has a glass of cool water on the floor, within reaching distance and she pauses to take a drink every few pages. She’s read this before and there are pages missing here and there, but she likes it anyway – it’s from the Ark, she brought it back with her on her last trip for Bellamy and he’d been so excited, she knows he’s already read it a few times. 

The radio on the mantle crackles a little and Clarke rolls her eyes, watching it until it dies back down. Raven thinks she got long distance communication working, and they’re testing it now – sending test communications every evening before Clarke goes back to Arkadia in a few days so they can compare. The radio picks up random static every now again, she doesn’t know what causes it, but it has become the soundtrack to their days. 

Bellamy opens the door to the Cabin, his shoulders tense and drops his bag at the closet, toes his shoes off and crosses to the bed, sitting down next to her hips and rubbing her back with one hand while he picks her water up from the floor with the other, taking a drink before handing her the glass so she can drink then taking it back to set it back down. “What are you reading?” he asks, taking the book and looking at the cover, before handing it back to her. “Isn’t that mine?” he asks, mock annoyed. 

“Yeah, well, what’s yours is mine” she sing-songs and he lets out a surprised laugh before he leans down to kiss her. When he pulls back she kicks her feet so they tap his back and he leans around so he can grab her feet, running his finger over her instep where he knows she is ticklish and she shrikes a little sitting up and punching his arm lightly. “I hate you” she mumbles, but it’s undercut when she kisses him, settles in behind him and rubs his shoulders lightly, letting him situate in front of her. He lets out a little groan when her fingers dig into the muscles of his back. She smiles and does it again, “Training was that good, huh?” she asks, whispered into his ear. 

He lets out a long groan that turns into a laugh and she smiles, running her hands down his arms before crossing them over his chest, while he leans back against her. He’s been training some new potential worriers, and she knows it’s taking a lot out of him. She settles back against the wall and he settles back against her. It’s been a little while since the wedding, and they’ve fallen into something that Clarke thinks is lovely. She knows it won’t always be this easy, that once the excitement of them finding their way to each other wears off, it could be harder. But, she’s not as afraid as she once was that they’ll fight and then be stuck. She believes now that Bellamy can always be her ally, even if something happens any they don’t love each other anymore. But, she really likes that she can’t think of anything that would derail them being in love. She’s sure in a way that she’s never been about anything in her life before and it’s a nice feeling. 

\------

Clarke is shoving the radio into her pack when Bellamy turns the corner and comes into sight. It’s just her and Octavia going to Arkadia today, and Bellamy kisses her quickly before helping her onto the waiting horse and giving Octavia a half wave. He’s too busy with the Warriors to come, and Clarke realizes that she doesn’t remember ever going back to Arkadia without Bellamy. It’s an odd feeling. 

It starts raining when they’re about half way there and Clarke stops to wrap the radio in her sweater and stuff it in the bottom of her pack, to try to protect it, but they still make pretty good time. Right as they pass through the gates the skies open and what has been an intermediate rain turns into a deluge. They get the horses under an over hang and then sprint to Raven’s workshop. They’re soaked when they push through the doors. “How’s the radio” is the first thing Raven says when she realizes it’s them. 

“Yeah, we’re good, a little damp” Clarke rings out her shirt, “Thanks for asking”. Octavia laughs and Raven holds out her hand for the radio. Clarke hands it to her and Raven inspects it before looking back over at her. 

“Okay, it looks good. Now I can worry about you.” Clarke laughs “You want a change of clothes or anything?” she asks, looking from Clarke to Octavia, both of whom have their clothes plastered to them by the rain water. 

“Sure, yeah” Clarke says and Raven disappears for a few minutes, coming back with clothes that Clarke recognizes as having been hers before she left. Her and Octavia change and Clarke is surprised to find that the clothes fit differently than she remembered – tighter in some places and looser in others. She wouldn’t have though that she’d changed much physically but the proof is in the tightness of her shirt when she reaches her arms up. Octavia just looks ridiculous in an old pink t-shirt and jeans, the glare she gives when Clarke and Raven laugh dose not have the affect she intended, instead sending them further into giggles. 

Raven doesn’t have her own cabin, but she does have the workshop and while it might not technically be hers…it’s hers. Most of the Hundred filter in when they hear that Clarke and Octavia are with Raven, providing unhelpful commentary as Raven plays with the radio, fixing little bugs but overall happy with how it’s been working. 

They’re having dinner, the Workshop full of chatting kids, the rain beating down on the roof above them. Raven has long finished with the radio, and Clarke and Octavia keep saying that they’ll leave when the rain lets up, but it hasn’t shown any sign of slowing yet. A few Arkadians that Clare doesn’t know well filter in and out of the Workshop while they eat and she doesn’t miss the long inquisitive glances they throw her way. It takes her longer than it maybe should to realize that she is an interloper here now – not someone that frightens them, but someone they don’t totally understand anymore. 

She thinks maybe it should scare her or knock her off balance. But, realizing that Trikru is her home now, just makes her smile. 

When it becomes clear that the rain is not going to stop, Octavia and Clarke decide to stay in Arkadia overnight. Clarke worries that Bellamy and the others won’t know why they didn’t make it back to Trikru and worry, but Octavia assures her that they’ll put it together. 

By night time, almost the entirety of the Hundred is inside Raven’s Work Shop. Some are balancing plates on their knees to eat and everyone is yelling over each other. Octavia is sandwiched between Jasper and Harper, Jasper’s goggles on her forehead for some reason. It’d be so easy to mistake her for a member of the Hundred and it makes Clarke smile, the way friendship has blossomed where it would have been so easy to find only hatred. 

The Work Shop is loud, people moving all around. Raven keeps looking around like she’s going to kick everyone out, but then her eyes go soft and she scoffs a little before going back to working on the pile of things on her desk. Clarke glances over to see Miller sleeping, his head in Jackson’s lap and smiles, looking around to realize that the storm is lulling people to sleep all around the cabin. She thinks back to their first days on Earth, to the storm that nearly wrecked them. It wasn’t much different than this storm, but they were so much more prepared now and it makes all the difference. 

Raven finishes what she’s working on, placing the tools on her desk and turning around, looking pleased with herself and settles next to Clarke, leaning against the wall next to her and dropping her head to Clarke’s shoulder. Clarke breaths out a laugh and leans her head down to touch Raven’s. “You happy?” Raven asks quietly and Clarke nods a little, she it “Good” Raven answers quietly. 

That’s how she wakes up, hours later, her head on Raven’s, trying to be still as not to wake Raven but also rub at the back of her neck where she’s slept awkwardly. She’s quiet for a moment before she realizes that the rain has stopped and smiles to herself. 

Jasper lets out a weird gasping snore (Monty kicks at him, without waking up) that startles Octavia awake. Clarke tries to stretch out her legs, but the movement wakes Raven who mumbles something as she rolls her neck. “We should get home” Octavia whispers. The sun isn’t out yet, but there is a thin pink line on the horizon that says it’s on its way. 

Clarke glances around, can remember when this was home, but she smiles when she nods. She’s stepping over sleeping bodies her whole walk to the door and when Raven steps on Murphy’s pinky and he flips them off, she stifles her laugh against the back of her hand. They walk to the horses, shuffling about and nosing at the hay in front of them. Clarke and Octavia ready them while Raven keeps her distance. Another reminder of how much has changed. 

She’s sleepy the whole ride back and plans to take a nap as soon as they get to Trikru. When they arrive at the gates, they talk with the Warrior while someone takes the horses and Octavia decides to go find Lincoln. She’s walking back towards her cabin when she sees Bellamy. It’s early, but he’s near the gathering area, talking to one of the young warriors-to-be he’s been training. He’s told her about him, younger and smaller than the rest and struggling to keep up, but eager and willing to work. She watches him for a few minutes, explaining something she can’t quite hear to the boy, patient and slow. When the boy walks away, Clarke comes up behind Bellamy, tapping his left shoulder and the slipping around to the right. He tries to roll his eyes when his eyes find her, but he’s grinning and it ruins the affect. 

She leans into him and one of his arms come up to circle around her, his lips pressing against her temple. “How was it?” he whispers as they pull away, and he looks down at her clothes. 

She laughs and pinches his arm lightly and he laughs. “It was okay” she says, shrugging. “The radio works” she lifts the bag a little, like it’s proof and he nods a little. “I’m glad to be home” she adds quietly after a moment. 

He smiles, soft, and pulls her back into him. “me too” he whispers right before he kisses her. 


	17. …And They Lived Happily Ever After

The Arrangement. Chapter Seventeen: …And They Lived Happily Ever After

They’re lying in bed, it’s a little early to turn in, but there is a storm raging outside, making everything dark and a little slower than usual, that Clarke thinks is an acceptable excuse. Bellamy is on his stomach, hands under his chin, looking over at her. She’s on her side facing him, running her index finger just under the long scratch on his bicep over and over. “It’s fine, Clarke” he mumbles, not for the first time. And it is, it isn’t even deep enough to need stitches, it just looks red and angry. It had been an accident during training and his promise of ‘it happens all the time’ hadn’t done much to comfort her. 

All at once, he turns onto his side and scoops her up, pulling her against him and turning the scratch on his arm away from her line of sight, kissing her softly as he does. She smiles and settles against him. He’s quiet tonight, but she knows it’s not about the accident or the scratch that is hardly registering for him, he’s been quiet for the past couple of days. She’s asked a few times what is going on, but he always just kisses her hair and tells her that everything is fine. She doesn’t want to push, so she’s stopped asking. “Hey” she whispers, pushing closer to him. He raises his eyebrows when he looks down at her, folding his arms around her, “I love you” she whispers and he breaths out a smile. 

He tilts his forehead down so it’s pressed against hers and she raises one of her hands up so that her fingers can touch his cheek. He looks oddly serious and she wants to ask if he’s okay, but he speaks first, “We should get married” he says in a rush, like he’s forcing it out. There is a little lilt to it, like he wants it to sound teasing, but all he sounds is nervous. 

She looks up at him, “Did you hit your head?” she asks quietly and he breaths out a little laugh, some of his tension breaking, “I’m pretty sure we did that once…it was terrifying” she adds. 

“Yeah, that’s why…” he trails off, shakes his head a little at himself and leans down to kiss her, just once, quick, like he’s just making sure he still can. “We didn’t even know each other and we were forced…I thought it might be nice to do when…when it’s our choice” he’s mumbling when he says it, like he’s losing nerve. But, Clarke loves it. 

She pushes up to kiss him and lets herself melt into him. When she pulls back she’s nodding, “Yeah, lets get real married” she says and he lets a surprised laugh bubble up. 

He presses a kiss to her forehead and starts to sit. She looks at him quizzically but he whispers “stay here” so she sits up in the bed and leans back against the wall. He goes to the closet, gets something she can’t see and comes back. He settles in next to her, pulls in a deep breath, and opens his fist. She pulls in a sharp breath, it’s a ring. 

“How did you…?” she trails off, picking it up. She runs a finger along the smooth inside, glancing up at him. 

“Miller told me that the tradition among Skikru marriages was rings” he mummers the words right against her temple and she presses closer to him, tears gathering in her eyes. “I want it to be both of us, both of our traditions” 

“You made this” it’s more statement, than question, but she still says it curiously. She presses against the jewels at the top of the ring, a sapphire and a ruby if she had to guess, and neither are common. She can feel him nod against her. She sets the ring on the bedside table as carefully as she can – she wants to put it on, but more than that she wants to never take it off once she does, so she’ll wait for the wedding. “I love you” she mummers right before she presses her lips to his, him lowering her onto the bed beneath them. 

\-------------------

The next day, she goes to find Octavia early. “Hey, what are you doing today?” she asks and Octavia shrugs, “Can you come with me?” she asks. 

“Where?” Octavia asks, arching an eyebrow. 

“Filed trip” 

“That isn’t a place” Octavia grumbles. But it doesn’t matter, she’s standing up and following Clarke anyway. 

They’re about half way there, they took the horses so it wouldn’t be an all-day affair, when Clarke tells Octavia that “We’re going to get married…like real married” tucking her hair behind her ear, cheeks tinging pink. 

“Oh, he finally asked” Octavia says, instead of whatever Clarke was expecting and Clarke narrows her eyes at Octavia. “He’d been working on that ring for a while – made me help him find the jewels and decide on the set of them.” Octavia gets quiet, then swallows, “It’s…he put a lot into this, really loves you, so I mean…you really want it too, right?” 

“Yeah” Clarke nods a little, “I really do”. 

When they get to Arkadia, Octavia goes with Harper and Roma to talk with them and for the first time since being sent to Trikru, Clarke seeks out her mother. She’s seen her mother since leaving Arkadia, but it’s always been her mother seeking her out or the happenstance of their paths crossing when Clarke visited – Clarke hadn’t sought her mother out in a long time. She finds Abby in the Med Bay, of course, talking to Marcus and she clears her throat when she enters, and they both turn to look at her. 

Marcus excuses himself, squeezing her shoulder as he passes and Abby takes a moment to fuss over some items on a tray as she turns around to face Clarke, excitement evident on her face. “Clarke, I didn’t know you’d be here today” she says as she crosses, pulling Clarke into a hug. Clarke leans into it, but she’s stiff and when they step back into their own space, Abby looks resigned. As much as Clarke wants to move past her anger, she’s not sure she’ll ever be able to truly forgive Abby. Things are working out with her and Bellamy, more so than she would have ever even though to hope for when this whole thing started, but no one could have predicted that – Abby couldn’t have known what Clarke’s situation with Bellamy would be when this all started. 

“I uh…” Clarke stammers a little, “I was hoping to ask you for a favor” Clarke says, pushing the words out in a rush. She doesn’t particularly want to be asking for anything. Abby nods so Clarke pulls in a deep breath, “Bellamy and I are…” she trails off, shales her head, starts again, “If you’ll give it to me, I’d really like to have Dad’s wedding ring”. Abby’s hand flies to her chest, where Clarke knows the ring is dangling from a chain, under Abby’s shirt and it falls quite between them. 

Clarke knows that Abby loved Jake at some point, that maybe she still did even when she turned him in. But, he still died because of her, and Clarke doesn’t know how to let that go. “Bellamy and I are going to exchange rings and I really want…” Clarke trails off with a shrug and Abby nods, hands a little shaky as she pulls the chain over her head. 

“Are you sure you want to give this to him, we don’t even know him?” Abby asks, quiet. 

“You gave him me when you didn’t know him” Abby winces, “But I do know him now” Clarke whispers, closing her eyes when her mom drops the ring in her hand and nods a little. “Thank you” she says as she closes her fingers around the metal. 

When she walks away from the Med Bay she slips the chain around her own neck, the ring falling against her chest as she goes to find Octavia. Finn comes around from the side of the Med Bay, blocking her path and she sighs softly as she comes to a stop and straightens. “Finn” she inclines her head, she’s not sure what he heard from outside the Med Bay, and on the off chance it was nothing, she doesn’t want to give him any clues. 

“You’re marrying him?” he asks, quieter than Clarke would have expected, and her mouth twitches a little in disappointment. 

“Well,” she starts, tilting her head to the side a little, “technically I already did. Over a year ago.” She watches his face morph from inquisitive to angry to indigent and finally to forced conversational. She could have missed it, had she not been watching. She wonders if that’s what happened before, if she wasn’t looking close enough and she missed who he really was. She nods a little, “I’ll see you later, Finn” she mumbles and she starts to pass. He calls out her name and she turns to face him and they hold eye contact for a long moment before she shakes her head a little and walks away. 

She finds Raven before she finds Octavia, so she sits next to her on the ground, watching her fiddle with some wires on a big metal…something Clarke doesn’t recognize and waits for Raven to give it a little kick, roll her eyes, then turn to look at her, “What’s up?” she asks, as if she hadn’t just abused a…something. 

Clarke smiles a little, “I’m getting married” she leans towards Raven and whispers conspiratorially. 

Confusion passes over Raven’s face for a moment, but to her credit she picks it up pretty quickly, turning more to pull Clarke into an excited hug. They talk about the logistics for a few minutes and Clarke tells Raven to make sure that anyone who should be there is and when Octavia sees them from across the camp and makes her way to them, she tells Raven when she can come to the clearing to help set up. She makes Octavia pull on her hands to help her stand and they both laugh when she stumbles into her. 

The ride back to Trikru is short and when the make their way through the gates, Octavia takes the horses back to the stable while Clarke spots Bellamy off to the side, talking to a couple of people. She makes her way towards them and when another one of the men says, “Heya Clarke” Bellamy turns to face her, his eyes soft as he smiles at her, before finishing up his conversation and following her. 

She pulls him behind a building and spins to face him, surprised by how close he is. She takes a step back so she can pull the chain from her neck and loops the ring onto her pinky finger, holding it up for him to see. He glances between her and the ring a few times before his eye settle on the ring and he reaches up to slip the ring off her finger and hold it in his hand, the chain dragging across her fingers as he does. He’s turning it over and over on his palm and she slips closer to him. “It was my dad’s” she says, quiet, and his eyes snap up to find hers as he whispers her name. “I thought it would be nice for you to…” she trails off a little and half shrugs, battling the enormity of it with forced casualness. He closes his hand around the ring and wraps his other hand around her hips, kissing her temple as he pulls her to him. 

\---------------------------------

Clarke doesn’t see Bellamy at all on the morning of her wedding. It’s a tradition, or at least that’s what Octavia tell her when she sleeps on the floor of her cabin that night. She spends most of the day being nervous and getting ready; taking a bath and washing out her hair before letting Octavia braid her hair in intricate patters that she says are traditional for a wedding day. She wears her normal clothes for the walk to the clearing where the wedding will be, but Octavia is carrying a bag that she promises holds the perfect dress for the wedding. She refused to let Clarke see it which she knows should bother her, but she finds she doesn’t mind. 

When the get to the clearing she can see that a fire is already lit inside the tent set aside for Bellamy to get ready in, and as much as she’d like to see him before the ceremony, she’s distracted by the site of hundreds of small lanterns, in every color she can think of, hung all around the clearing. She can see Raven, Miller, Monty, Jasper, Nyko, Ivar…everyone she cares about in the clearing and it fills her with a warmth she can’t describe. She doesn’t have time to consider it, though, because Octavia is pulling her into her own tent. 

Clarke is almost done getting ready, is bare foot and in only her underwear and a corset when Octavia pulls the wedding dress out of its bag and holds it out for Clarke who touches the ends of the fabric softly, “It’s beautiful, how did you…?” she asks quietly. 

Octavia smiles, a little sadly, not quite meeting Clarke’s eyes. “It was my moms, and I…” she trails off shrugs a little and clears her throat, “I altered it for you”. 

Clarke stands up and crosses the distance to pull Octavia into a hug. “Thank You” she whispers and Octavia gives her a quick squeeze before stepping back and helping Clarke into the dress. Clarke is pulling her shoes on when someone knocks on the wooden frame of the tent, by the entrance. “Yeah” she calls and maybe she should have expected her mother, but she wasn’t and the sight of her pulls the breath from her lungs for a short moment. 

Octavia slips out of the tent and Clarke stands, flattening her hands against the dress as she does. The quiet awkwardness sits in the air until Abby clears her throat a little, “Clarke” she whispers, “I know that I’ve done things that you…things that can’t be forgiven, and I’m not asking for that.” She pauses, pulls in a deep breath, “I think I just wanted you to know that I am unbelievably proud of you, and that your happiness is all that I want” she’s quieter that Clarke has ever seen her, and it strikes her how much everything has changed; not just her and her life, but everything. 

Clarke nods a little, she’s not sure how to forgive her mom, where to even start. But, she knows she doesn’t want to live the rest of her life hating her either. So, she hugs Abby quickly and mumbles “Thanks, mom”. 

Another knock on the frame of the tent breaks the moment and both of them turn to see Jory poking his head in. “They are about ready for you” he says and Clarke nods. Abby follows Jory out and Clarke looks in the mirror, smiling softly at her reflection before turning and leaving the tent. 

A group of Grounders, Jasper, and Harper are playing instruments behind the alter. There are colored lanterns everywhere that must have taken hours to hang and light. Lexa and Anya are talking, a little away from the crowd. Everyone that she loves is gather around in a semi-circle, bodies facing the alter but heads swiveled around to see her. Nyko is standing behind the alter preparing to preform the ceremony. But, once she sees Bellamy standing to the left of Nyko, he’s all she can see. He’s looking back at her, his eyes sweeping over her, his hair wild and curly, smiling at her, even while he can see his fingers drumming against his leg, antsy to get started. 

She walks the path to him and he reaches out and takes her hand when she gets there, squeezing it lightly and she smiles. She remembers, so clearly, how nervous she was the first time they did this, how scared, but all she feels now is happy and when her eyes meet his, she hopes he knows that. Nyko had to rewrite the ceremony to include the rings, so they do the vows first. They decided to stay with the traditional vows instead of writing their own, preferring to keep their words for each other only, so they repeat after Nyko before he has them exchange rings. 

Bellamy pushes the ring he made onto Clarke’s finger and she smiles, flexes her fingers and looks down at the way it catches the light from the lanterns they are surrounded by. After, she raises Bellamy’s hand and slips her father’s ring onto his finger. She traces it once it’s on, smiling at the way it fits perfectly, smiling at the way she thinks her father would like Bellamy, would appreciate how he loves her. Bellamy traces his thumb over the ring and she catches his eye again, realizing then that she has tears welling in her own eyes. 

When it’s time for their hands to be cut and pressed together, this time Bellamy’s fingers intertwine with hers and he leans towards her to whisper “this isn’t very hygienic” the same joke she’d made to him once, months after they did this the first time and she’s been searching for conversation. Her laugh bubbles up before she can stop it and Nyko coughs to cover his, before reciting the ceremony. At the end, when it’s time for them to kiss, Bellamy presses his lips against hers firm and sure and Clarke ruins it by laughing when she can hear cat calls coming from members of the Hundred. He kisses her forehead as he pulls back and she smiles, happier than she thought it was possible to be. He unloops the rope from their hands and takes the towel that Nyko offers, pulling her hand towards him to clean and bandage before he does his own hand. 

Once their hands are free and clean, Bellamy cups her cheeks with both his hands and pulls her towards him, crashing his lips down on hers. She melts into it, her hands coming up to grip his wrists, shifting her body impossibly closer to his. Fireworks go off behind her and she jolts with a gasp. She turns in time to see Raven smirking and she shakes her head softly before she looks up to see the explosion of color, leaning back against Bellamy’s chest. He wraps his arms around her middle she tips her head back so her temple touches his chin. 

After the fireworks, Clarke and Bellamy enjoy the party, eating the food that was brought and dancing in the middle of the field. At one point, Clarke looks over to see Bellamy talking with Echo – her pushing his shoulder lightly as he laughs and shrugs. She smiles; sure, now, of her relationship. And when she feels a tug on one of her braids and spins to see Roan, she rolls her eyes dramatically. It’s nice, that they came, the journey so long for them. Nice, that they mingle well with the Skikru, even though Nia finds them abhorrent. 

She’s dancing with Bellamy, or more swaying with him, in the middle of a sea of people who are happy for her, when Lincoln comes to tell them that he’s ready and they follow him to where chairs are set up for them off to the side. Lincoln shows them the design, it intermingles the design for Trikru and the design for Skikru, so the two fit together. Clarke smiles and looks up at Bellamy, nodding a little. Bellamy goes first, hardly reacting when the needle Lincoln wields touches his skin, leaving the image in its wake, over his heart. 

When Lincoln is done with Bellamy’s and it Clarke’s turn, she adjusts, nervously, pulling the dress down so Lincoln can tattoo over her heart is well. “It’s fine, Clarke, you’ll be fine” Bellamy says, a teasing lilt to his voice. 

“It won’t hurt much” Lincoln says, quiet and reassuring. When she nods, he starts and Bellamy reaches over and takes her hand, running his thumb over her palm, soft, over and over. It does hurt, and when she calls them liars, they both laugh. When hers is done, she can’t stop poking at it and Lincoln bats her hand away. 

They go the edge of the clearing to watch the party, Clarke leaning against Bellamy who holds her close. “I love you” she whispers and he kisses her softly. 

“I love you too” he mummers against her lips and she smiles. 

“And, hey, at least this time I’m not worried about forgetting your name” 

He lets out a surprised laugh and leans in close to whisper “I worried about that the first day, too” in her ear like it’s a secret. She laughs and turns her head to kiss him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow - I can't believe this one is over! Thank you so much to everyone who read, kudos, subscribed to, bookmarked, and most of all commented on this fic, and thank you to anyone who may find this fic in the future and do so - it means a lot to me that you'd take the time! Thank you for going on this journey with me - may we meet again.


End file.
